- Location
- The Middle of the Howling Wilderness
Do you have a link to this? I'm outlining a fic with Greg as a fairly major character and I'd like to know how well my ideas line up with canon.
Greg Veder vs The World (Worm x The Gamer)
- Thread starter ZFighter18
- Start date
- Crossover
-
- Tags
- worm greg veder gamer (litrpg)
Do you have a link to this? I'm outlining a fic with Greg as a fairly major character and I'd like to know how well my ideas line up with canon.
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Jaune Pendragon
King Of Servants
- Location
- Avalon
.......maybe it's Taylor?
- Location
- The Middle of the Howling Wilderness
Thanks! I really appreciate this!
- Location
- Philippines, Manila, Tarlac City
Well as people have pointed out, Greg might work as an Iron Fist
Fine, fine, how about Oper8r, in honor of a hero who passed too soon?
It's settled then!
... What do you mean it isn't?
Hmm. How about Spurt? As in growth sp... Oh wait, nvm.
Superman, like that comic from 40 years ago. Greg swears he's not really an alien. Cauldron squints suspiciously.
Console, like a computer system designed around video games. Wards hate being relegated to 'greg duty' instead of patrols.
Ok, more seriously then...
Grind. Because grinding. Too basic?
Skillz. Because Uber and L33t are taken, but Greg still wants to brag about how he'll 360 noscope you 1v1
Prodigy, in reference to his unequaled rate of learning and growth.
Any synonym of prodigy. A quick google search gives me virtuoso, wunderkind, paragon, paradigm, epitome, exemplar as examples that don't totally suck, though the latter four mean the second definition of prodigy rather than the first.
Aaaand I'm out of ideas. I'm better at jokes than names.
How about thelegend64?Well as people have pointed out, Greg might work as an Iron Fist
Fine, fine, how about Oper8r, in honor of a hero who passed too soon?
It's settled then!
... What do you mean it isn't?
Hmm. How about Spurt? As in growth sp... Oh wait, nvm.
Superman, like that comic from 40 years ago. Greg swears he's not really an alien. Cauldron squints suspiciously.
Console, like a computer system designed around video games. Wards hate being relegated to 'greg duty' instead of patrols.
Ok, more seriously then...
Grind. Because grinding. Too basic?
Skillz. Because Uber and L33t are taken, but Greg still wants to brag about how he'll 360 noscope you 1v1
Prodigy, in reference to his unequaled rate of learning and growth.
Any synonym of prodigy. A quick google search gives me virtuoso, wunderkind, paragon, paradigm, epitome, exemplar as examples that don't totally suck, though the latter four mean the second definition of prodigy rather than the first.
Aaaand I'm out of ideas. I'm better at jokes than names.
- Location
- In my Lair, on my Hoard
I'm partial to Savant myself. Mostly because Greg meets the definition for it almost perfectly. But I doubt Greg would name himself that, so... hmn.
Maybe Captain N?
Maybe Captain N?
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Okay, guys. I'm at 42 names at this point. If anyone wants to come up with 3 or 8 more, so I'm at a solid 45 or 50, I'm cool with that.
Either way, I'm going to remove all but 10 within the next 2 hours, so if you have any ideas, now's the time.
Either way, I'm going to remove all but 10 within the next 2 hours, so if you have any ideas, now's the time.
Icecoldfunk
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Australia
Playa. Only because he's too socially obtuse to really get why that's a bad name.
Grindr. Same again, but unintentionally gay.
Grindr. Same again, but unintentionally gay.
Buff 3.4
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Buff 3.4
The figure crossed his burly arms over an equally burly chest, pale flesh rippling with tight cords of muscle just beneath the skin. Even beneath his mask, he seemed to give off an air of confusion. "Something wrong?" Yet again, that deep voice seemed to carry, almost echoing in the alleyway.
Greg considered the question. "Something wrong?" he echoed, humor evident in his tone.
"Yeah, that's what I said." The cape's mouth tilted up at the side in a slight smile, visible below a partial face-mask. He tilted his head, his gaze clearly noting the gory figure that Greg stood next to. "After all, I see you got a little bit of a mess on your hands."
Greg abruptly let out a snort of laughter, his hood falling off as his head dipped back. Said snort quickly turned into an uncontrolled high-pitched laugh at the absurdity of the statement, as well as who it was coming from.
Taking out the trash? Who actually says that? Greg nodded slowly as he kept his eyes on the cape's body, watching for any sudden movement. This was not someone he wanted to fight. At least not yet.
His eyes widened as he realized the cape was patiently waiting for him to say something. Blinking, he hurriedly spat out, "I-I-I… I guess so."
"The name's Stormti-"
"I know who you are," Greg interrupted, words leaving his mouth in a rush.
Greg really didn't need the introduction, already knowing plenty about the cape in front of him. Stormtiger, like the majority of capes in the Bay, was a villain and a rather high-ranking one. One of Kaiser's right-hand men in the E88, he was relatively popular on PHO but neither as well-known, feared or as dangerous as Hookwolf, Kaiser's other right-hand. In fact, the only reason Greg knew so much about him was because his powers were kinda cool. After all, he was pretty much a discount Airbender.
The cape tilted his head slightly, the smile under his white mask shifting to something much less predatory. "You've heard of me?" The hint of pride in his tone was more than a tad obvious. "What am I talking about? Of course you've heard of me." Now, it was super obvious.
Are you fucking kidding me? "...Kinda hard not to," Greg replied, eyebrows shooting up at both the quest alert and the cape's words. "I mean, I live in this city. I have the Internet. I just like to keep up-to-date on capes."
"Well," The villain unfurled his arms and took a few steps forward into a ray of light, allowing Greg to note that buff was a bit of an understatement when describing Stormtiger. "It's nice to meet a fan."
Blue eyes widened behind his hockey mask as Greg processed the words, his shock powerful enough to make him take a step back. "A f… fan? Wow… uhh," Greg let out a hiss of air, one hand moving up to rub the back of his head as he tried to find something to say, "no offense but… uhh, fan is a really, really strong word."
Greg swallowed, nervous sweat forming under his mask as he waited for Stormtiger to say something.
Stormtiger's head tilted to the side, his arms moving to his sides. "Well, I just assumed…" he began, his voice tinged with slight confusion.
"Assumed?" Greg echoed again, only to flinch the moment the word left his lips. Why do you keep interrupting him?
Stormtiger let out a short bark of laughter. "Your hair, your eyes… I only assumed you would be a fan of the Empire," Greg's eyes widened, "and by extension, me."
Greg blinked, surprised by the statement. Shocked as he was, his mouth simply said the first thing that came to mind. "Wow, that's kinda racist."
The warmth in Stormtiger's smile dimmed, the tiger-masked cape gaining an intense look in his eyes as he took a few steps into the alley. "What?" the cape snarled, his voice little more than a growl.
Frick on a stick. "Uhh… well, the thing about that is… uhh, what I meant to say was," Greg took a few nervous steps back, nearly stepping on a few downed Merchants in his hurry. "It's just kinda weird that just 'cause I'm a tad Aryan-looking, you assume I'm down with the Empire and the 'Hey Hitler' and all that."
There was silence between them for a good five seconds as Stormtiger simply stared at the younger cape. Sensing that he may have gone too far in the wrong direction, Greg tried to pull back his statement. "N-n-not that I don't think you guys aren't cool or anything, cool names, cool costumes, really cool powers, especially you, Mr. Tiger. Just... wow, you know, real awesome air-bending and stuff, right?"
Blinking furiously, Greg tried to get his thoughts in one place. "Wow, okay, so not that I'm not in awe of your, you know, skills, It's j-j-just… that… uhh… the whole Nazi shtick is kinda… you know... " Greg's sentence trailed off as he noticed that Stormtiger's muscles seemed to tense, the Nazi cape's fingers twitching slightly as they curled inwards.
Think of something, you idiot. Greg shook his head before continuing again, words flying out in a flurry. "I mean, you see, I'm a fan of 80's music, I'm a fan of Frosted Flakes cereal. It doesn't mean I still d-d-don't listen to other stuff, you know? Or eat other b-breakfast foods, right?" What are you saying? Shut up!
After a few tense moments, Stormtiger let out a sort of grunt, folding his muscular arms over his chest again. "Well, fan or not, it's always good to meet a cape that's friendly toward the Empire, especially one who shares the same…" his head tilted slightly, gaze moving over the field of fallen Merchants, "understandings about the trash infesting this city."
Unconsciously, Greg's fingers curled tighter around the handle of the bat. "Understandings? If you mean the Merchants, then yeah, not a fan." Underneath his breath, Greg let out a whispered "[Observe.]"
Stormtiger Lv ?
HP: 450/450
"So, kid, you got a name?" The bare-chested cape asked as he moved forward, stepping just a bit closer to Greg while wearing that same feral grin.
Greg, in turn, scrambled backward, never lowering the bat in his hands or taking his eyes off Stormtiger. "A name? Not.. really." His voice came out in a squeak even as he did his best to stand his ground.
"Relax, kid, " Stormtiger let out a belly laugh, the sound almost making Greg jump. "I can't even see your face and I can tell you're damn near about to piss yourself. I'm not gonna hurt you." He let out another booming burst of laughter, the loud sound forcing another flinch out of Greg.
Right next to my ear, again! He has to be doing that on purpose! Rather than say that, Greg replied with a simple, "Really?"
"Really." Stormtiger gestured at the headless corpse with his chin, the movement so subtle Greg almost didn't notice it. "You might be green as all hell but you got a killer instinct." He flashed Greg a grin again, this one far more predatory than the last. "If you weren't one of us, I'd have to take care of someone like that before they make trouble."
One of us? Greg blinked, nearly taking another step back as he realized what the older cape meant. Oh. Ohhh. Huh, I've never been so happy to be white. He blinked again. Does that make me racist?
Unaware of Greg's internal dilemma, Stormtiger gave Greg a wink before turning his gaze to the three remaining Merchants with their heads intact. "No one really heads down here other than Merchants but I wouldn't recommend hanging around just in case, especially after all this..." The cape let out a deep chuckle before gesturing towards the headless corpse still slumped against the dumpster. "I'd take care of that if you don't want the Protectorate on your ass."
Greg spared a glance at the body before pursing his lips beneath his mask. I mean, it is an object now, right? Not a person. He turned back to Stormtiger. "I… think I have something for that."
"Do you, know?" There was that grin again, stretching wider than it really should. "Well then, I don't have anything else to do here."
Without warning, Stormtiger leaped up and over Greg's head, forcing the younger cape to duck in fright a sudden burst of wind kicked up in the alley. Whipping around, Greg's mouth dropped behind his mask as he saw Stormtiger's motions. Twisting mid-jump, the cape's feet made contact with one side of the alley wall before kicking off as a miniature tornado around his feet propelled him further. In a burst of motion and a flurry of air around his legs, he bounced off the alley walls one by one like some kind of… Nazi ninja.
In no time at all, Stormtiger had landed gracefully on top of the building to the right of Greg. The cape brought two fingers to his head, giving Greg a sort of weak salute and flashing him another grin. "See ya, newbie. I'll let you off easy this time but a friendly warning; Next time, I'm gonna make you an offer. I think you know what it is. It'd be in your best interests to take it." Just like that, the cape vanished over the mouth of the roof, the sound of rushing wind a sign of his exit.
After a few long moments, Greg let out a tired sigh, his shoulders slumping as he lowered his bat. "That guy was such a drama queen. I'll make you an offer," Greg mocked, rolling his eyes. "I'll make you an offer. My foot. In your face. I'll make you take that. Stupid Nazi Ninja."
"Now, let's get this over with." Opening his eyes, Greg grinned widely under his mask. "Stats."
Greg nodded, raising a hand to his chin. "Mmmmhmmm. Okay, fuck WIS and CHA. Bullshit stat modifiers make them a sunk cost anyway." Scratching his chin, Greg raised a hand as he began to mentally calculate what he was looking at.
"Okay, I can easily train VIT so fuuuuck that, too," he continued with a flourish of his finger. "SPD, oooh, SPD looks good but I was way faster than those Merchants, anyway. Plus, I have Power Sprint so… that leaves INT and STR. INT… yeah, " Greg nodded to himself. "Can't really do much with INT right now. I can probably study harder stuff to level INT faster anyway."
Other than the new Aerokinesis skill he got from not getting murdered by Stormtiger and that Weapon Charge one from earlier, Greg didn't really see what use he had for more MP right now. On the other hand, more MP meant he could level that Aerokinesis skill faster and… Being an airbender does sound pretty dang cool. So, yeah.
His eyes fell back on STR, a grin still strong on his face. "You, my little buddy, are getting the biggest bonus. Okay, I have fourteen points so how about… eight to STR, three to SPD and three to INT?
His arms weren't exactly bulging with muscle but the gains were… well, they were visible, that's for sure. He was still the same size and everything and he hadn't really bulked up or out, but the definition was definitely visible. "Wow, if this is 24 STR, what the heck is 100 gonna be like?"
With a grin, Greg looked back up at the screen, "Let's get on with it, then. Perks."
Closing the screen, Greg turned to face his current problem. He stared at the headless body, the thing still splattered with pieces of brain, skull and blood, much like his own body. "Now, let's see if this works."
A pensive frown formed on his face behind his hockey mask as he cast another glance down at the dead body. Thank Gamer God for Gamer's Mind. "Inventory."
A/N: Just an Author's Note. I'm sure many of you saw the skill that Greg received as a bonus for avoiding a fight with Stormtiger as a result of the quest. I simply want to inform you that Greg isn't going to get a skill simply for talking to parahumans. No, that was simply as a result of the Bonus Quest and Bonus Quests don't have the same completion criteria every time. Now, if he beats them up, he might get a skill but that's an entirely different situation.
Anyway, the skill Greg got was a [Minor Aerokinesis] skill. Minor Skills, max out at Level 5 instead of Level 10 like Basic Skills. Higher Skill levels have higher skill caps as well. Now, if Greg wanted to unlock Basic Aerokinesis and the higher levels, he'd have to beat Stormtiger or someone with a higher level of Aerokinesis than Stormtiger. It's the same thing with Basic Fighting. Till then, he's stuck with the Minor skill.
I hope this cleared up any misconceptions.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
The figure crossed his burly arms over an equally burly chest, pale flesh rippling with tight cords of muscle just beneath the skin. Even beneath his mask, he seemed to give off an air of confusion. "Something wrong?" Yet again, that deep voice seemed to carry, almost echoing in the alleyway.
Greg considered the question. "Something wrong?" he echoed, humor evident in his tone.
"Yeah, that's what I said." The cape's mouth tilted up at the side in a slight smile, visible below a partial face-mask. He tilted his head, his gaze clearly noting the gory figure that Greg stood next to. "After all, I see you got a little bit of a mess on your hands."
Greg abruptly let out a snort of laughter, his hood falling off as his head dipped back. Said snort quickly turned into an uncontrolled high-pitched laugh at the absurdity of the statement, as well as who it was coming from.
"On my hands, yeah," Greg inhaled as the urge to laugh left him immediately. As he felt the calm return to him, he nodded slightly, eyes locked on to the cape. "I... I guess you could say that."
The cape stepped forward slightly, the chains around his pants jangling somewhat as he moved. His smile morphed into a vicious grin. "Don't worry. That can happen sometimes when you're taking out the trash." His grin widened enough to border on a grimace, causing Greg to blink at the sight.
Taking out the trash? Who actually says that? Greg nodded slowly as he kept his eyes on the cape's body, watching for any sudden movement. This was not someone he wanted to fight. At least not yet.
His eyes widened as he realized the cape was patiently waiting for him to say something. Blinking, he hurriedly spat out, "I-I-I… I guess so."
"The name's Stormti-"
"I know who you are," Greg interrupted, words leaving his mouth in a rush.
Greg really didn't need the introduction, already knowing plenty about the cape in front of him. Stormtiger, like the majority of capes in the Bay, was a villain and a rather high-ranking one. One of Kaiser's right-hand men in the E88, he was relatively popular on PHO but neither as well-known, feared or as dangerous as Hookwolf, Kaiser's other right-hand. In fact, the only reason Greg knew so much about him was because his powers were kinda cool. After all, he was pretty much a discount Airbender.
The cape tilted his head slightly, the smile under his white mask shifting to something much less predatory. "You've heard of me?" The hint of pride in his tone was more than a tad obvious. "What am I talking about? Of course you've heard of me." Now, it was super obvious.
Are you fucking kidding me? "...Kinda hard not to," Greg replied, eyebrows shooting up at both the quest alert and the cape's words. "I mean, I live in this city. I have the Internet. I just like to keep up-to-date on capes."
"Well," The villain unfurled his arms and took a few steps forward into a ray of light, allowing Greg to note that buff was a bit of an understatement when describing Stormtiger. "It's nice to meet a fan."
Blue eyes widened behind his hockey mask as Greg processed the words, his shock powerful enough to make him take a step back. "A f… fan? Wow… uhh," Greg let out a hiss of air, one hand moving up to rub the back of his head as he tried to find something to say, "no offense but… uhh, fan is a really, really strong word."
Greg swallowed, nervous sweat forming under his mask as he waited for Stormtiger to say something.
Stormtiger's head tilted to the side, his arms moving to his sides. "Well, I just assumed…" he began, his voice tinged with slight confusion.
"Assumed?" Greg echoed again, only to flinch the moment the word left his lips. Why do you keep interrupting him?
Stormtiger let out a short bark of laughter. "Your hair, your eyes… I only assumed you would be a fan of the Empire," Greg's eyes widened, "and by extension, me."
Greg blinked, surprised by the statement. Shocked as he was, his mouth simply said the first thing that came to mind. "Wow, that's kinda racist."
The warmth in Stormtiger's smile dimmed, the tiger-masked cape gaining an intense look in his eyes as he took a few steps into the alley. "What?" the cape snarled, his voice little more than a growl.
Frick on a stick. "Uhh… well, the thing about that is… uhh, what I meant to say was," Greg took a few nervous steps back, nearly stepping on a few downed Merchants in his hurry. "It's just kinda weird that just 'cause I'm a tad Aryan-looking, you assume I'm down with the Empire and the 'Hey Hitler' and all that."
There was silence between them for a good five seconds as Stormtiger simply stared at the younger cape. Sensing that he may have gone too far in the wrong direction, Greg tried to pull back his statement. "N-n-not that I don't think you guys aren't cool or anything, cool names, cool costumes, really cool powers, especially you, Mr. Tiger. Just... wow, you know, real awesome air-bending and stuff, right?"
Blinking furiously, Greg tried to get his thoughts in one place. "Wow, okay, so not that I'm not in awe of your, you know, skills, It's j-j-just… that… uhh… the whole Nazi shtick is kinda… you know... " Greg's sentence trailed off as he noticed that Stormtiger's muscles seemed to tense, the Nazi cape's fingers twitching slightly as they curled inwards.
Think of something, you idiot. Greg shook his head before continuing again, words flying out in a flurry. "I mean, you see, I'm a fan of 80's music, I'm a fan of Frosted Flakes cereal. It doesn't mean I still d-d-don't listen to other stuff, you know? Or eat other b-breakfast foods, right?" What are you saying? Shut up!
After a few tense moments, Stormtiger let out a sort of grunt, folding his muscular arms over his chest again. "Well, fan or not, it's always good to meet a cape that's friendly toward the Empire, especially one who shares the same…" his head tilted slightly, gaze moving over the field of fallen Merchants, "understandings about the trash infesting this city."
Unconsciously, Greg's fingers curled tighter around the handle of the bat. "Understandings? If you mean the Merchants, then yeah, not a fan." Underneath his breath, Greg let out a whispered "[Observe.]"
Stormtiger Lv ?
HP: 450/450
"So, kid, you got a name?" The bare-chested cape asked as he moved forward, stepping just a bit closer to Greg while wearing that same feral grin.
Greg, in turn, scrambled backward, never lowering the bat in his hands or taking his eyes off Stormtiger. "A name? Not.. really." His voice came out in a squeak even as he did his best to stand his ground.
"Relax, kid, " Stormtiger let out a belly laugh, the sound almost making Greg jump. "I can't even see your face and I can tell you're damn near about to piss yourself. I'm not gonna hurt you." He let out another booming burst of laughter, the loud sound forcing another flinch out of Greg.
Right next to my ear, again! He has to be doing that on purpose! Rather than say that, Greg replied with a simple, "Really?"
"Really." Stormtiger gestured at the headless corpse with his chin, the movement so subtle Greg almost didn't notice it. "You might be green as all hell but you got a killer instinct." He flashed Greg a grin again, this one far more predatory than the last. "If you weren't one of us, I'd have to take care of someone like that before they make trouble."
One of us? Greg blinked, nearly taking another step back as he realized what the older cape meant. Oh. Ohhh. Huh, I've never been so happy to be white. He blinked again. Does that make me racist?
Unaware of Greg's internal dilemma, Stormtiger gave Greg a wink before turning his gaze to the three remaining Merchants with their heads intact. "No one really heads down here other than Merchants but I wouldn't recommend hanging around just in case, especially after all this..." The cape let out a deep chuckle before gesturing towards the headless corpse still slumped against the dumpster. "I'd take care of that if you don't want the Protectorate on your ass."
Greg spared a glance at the body before pursing his lips beneath his mask. I mean, it is an object now, right? Not a person. He turned back to Stormtiger. "I… think I have something for that."
"Do you, know?" There was that grin again, stretching wider than it really should. "Well then, I don't have anything else to do here."
Without warning, Stormtiger leaped up and over Greg's head, forcing the younger cape to duck in fright a sudden burst of wind kicked up in the alley. Whipping around, Greg's mouth dropped behind his mask as he saw Stormtiger's motions. Twisting mid-jump, the cape's feet made contact with one side of the alley wall before kicking off as a miniature tornado around his feet propelled him further. In a burst of motion and a flurry of air around his legs, he bounced off the alley walls one by one like some kind of… Nazi ninja.
In no time at all, Stormtiger had landed gracefully on top of the building to the right of Greg. The cape brought two fingers to his head, giving Greg a sort of weak salute and flashing him another grin. "See ya, newbie. I'll let you off easy this time but a friendly warning; Next time, I'm gonna make you an offer. I think you know what it is. It'd be in your best interests to take it." Just like that, the cape vanished over the mouth of the roof, the sound of rushing wind a sign of his exit.
After a few long moments, Greg let out a tired sigh, his shoulders slumping as he lowered his bat. "That guy was such a drama queen. I'll make you an offer," Greg mocked, rolling his eyes. "I'll make you an offer. My foot. In your face. I'll make you take that. Stupid Nazi Ninja."
"Oh, thank God," Greg swallowed thickly, nodding his head as he closed his eyes. "A level up, a new skill and a buttload of stat points. No premium loot box could compare. It's just so beautiful. Thank you, Gamer God, up in your Gamer Heaven, for granting me this Gamer Goodness. In any game of any genre, buff me with thy glory. Grant me plus one to all attributes, as I pwn in thine holy name. GG no re, Amen."
"Now, let's get this over with." Opening his eyes, Greg grinned widely under his mask. "Stats."
Greg Lucas Veder
Student
Level 5
XP: 1434/6180
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 196/260 (Hoodie: +10 [270])
MP: 140/140
Will: 114/114
STR: 16
SPD: 14 (Shoes: + 1 [15])
VIT: 15
INT: 18
WIS: 8 (-6[2])
CHA: 3 ((+9) (-11) [1])
Unspent Stat Points: 14
Unspent Perk Points: 2
Cash: $718.50
Student
Level 5
XP: 1434/6180
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 196/260 (Hoodie: +10 [270])
MP: 140/140
Will: 114/114
STR: 16
SPD: 14 (Shoes: + 1 [15])
VIT: 15
INT: 18
WIS: 8 (-6[2])
CHA: 3 ((+9) (-11) [1])
Unspent Stat Points: 14
Unspent Perk Points: 2
Cash: $718.50
Greg nodded, raising a hand to his chin. "Mmmmhmmm. Okay, fuck WIS and CHA. Bullshit stat modifiers make them a sunk cost anyway." Scratching his chin, Greg raised a hand as he began to mentally calculate what he was looking at.
"Okay, I can easily train VIT so fuuuuck that, too," he continued with a flourish of his finger. "SPD, oooh, SPD looks good but I was way faster than those Merchants, anyway. Plus, I have Power Sprint so… that leaves INT and STR. INT… yeah, " Greg nodded to himself. "Can't really do much with INT right now. I can probably study harder stuff to level INT faster anyway."
Other than the new Aerokinesis skill he got from not getting murdered by Stormtiger and that Weapon Charge one from earlier, Greg didn't really see what use he had for more MP right now. On the other hand, more MP meant he could level that Aerokinesis skill faster and… Being an airbender does sound pretty dang cool. So, yeah.
His eyes fell back on STR, a grin still strong on his face. "You, my little buddy, are getting the biggest bonus. Okay, I have fourteen points so how about… eight to STR, three to SPD and three to INT?
"Yes."
Greg shuddered slightly, his body overcome by a tingling sensation as a flash of blue light emanated from him for an instant. "...Ugh, super weird." Greg glanced down at his free arm, bending it forward as he flexed. He curled the other arm, lifting the suddenly much lighter bat and giving it a test swing. "Wow, I feel way stronger. Holy crap, I can see a bicep!" Greg flexed again, feeling brand-new muscle where there was little before.
His arms weren't exactly bulging with muscle but the gains were… well, they were visible, that's for sure. He was still the same size and everything and he hadn't really bulked up or out, but the definition was definitely visible. "Wow, if this is 24 STR, what the heck is 100 gonna be like?"
With a grin, Greg looked back up at the screen, "Let's get on with it, then. Perks."
Blinking in surprise, Greg stepped back, unsure of what to choose. "Oooookay. I have two points and a buttload of perks to choose from." As his eyes roamed the list again, Greg found himself with nothing to say, overwhelmed by the multitude of choices in front of him. "Maybe I'll just… take care of this later."
Closing the screen, Greg turned to face his current problem. He stared at the headless body, the thing still splattered with pieces of brain, skull and blood, much like his own body. "Now, let's see if this works."
A pensive frown formed on his face behind his hockey mask as he cast another glance down at the dead body. Thank Gamer God for Gamer's Mind. "Inventory."
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
A/N: Just an Author's Note. I'm sure many of you saw the skill that Greg received as a bonus for avoiding a fight with Stormtiger as a result of the quest. I simply want to inform you that Greg isn't going to get a skill simply for talking to parahumans. No, that was simply as a result of the Bonus Quest and Bonus Quests don't have the same completion criteria every time. Now, if he beats them up, he might get a skill but that's an entirely different situation.
Anyway, the skill Greg got was a [Minor Aerokinesis] skill. Minor Skills, max out at Level 5 instead of Level 10 like Basic Skills. Higher Skill levels have higher skill caps as well. Now, if Greg wanted to unlock Basic Aerokinesis and the higher levels, he'd have to beat Stormtiger or someone with a higher level of Aerokinesis than Stormtiger. It's the same thing with Basic Fighting. Till then, he's stuck with the Minor skill.
I hope this cleared up any misconceptions.
Greg Lucas Veder
Student
Level 5
XP: 1434/6180
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 260/260 (Hoodie: +10 HP [270])
MP: 155/155
Will: 119/119
STR: 24
SPD: 17 (Shoes: + 1 SPD [18])
VIT: 15
INT: 21
WIS: 8 (-6 [2])
CHA: 3 ((+9) (-11) [1])
Unspent Stat Points: 0
Unspent Perk Points: 2
Cash: $718.50
Student
Level 5
XP: 1434/6180
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 260/260 (Hoodie: +10 HP [270])
MP: 155/155
Will: 119/119
STR: 24
SPD: 17 (Shoes: + 1 SPD [18])
VIT: 15
INT: 21
WIS: 8 (-6 [2])
CHA: 3 ((+9) (-11) [1])
Unspent Stat Points: 0
Unspent Perk Points: 2
Cash: $718.50
Last edited:
- Location
- Earth Prime
Said it in the other forum's thread, but he NEEDS an ally with a good head on his or (more likely) her shoulders. Ironically, a path to him joining the Wards might include Emma continuing to seduce him, and then realizing he NEEDS a group or he'll be forced into the Empire. Sophia is her best bet for an "in" with an acceptable group. And, as reprehensible as she is, Emma does have more WIS than Greg. And the CHA to make him heed her WIS.
Taylor would be an even better ally, in that respect, but Emma's a huge obstacle there as long as he stays charmed by her and lets her run interference in that potential friendship. I won't even say "relationship," with the word's romantic connotations. Though Taylor would NOT be a good route into the Wards, due to her own independent streak, she might be a solid team-up that would help keep him from being conscripted by the Merchants just by virtue of her willingness and ability to escalate to preserve her and her friends' freedom. I know it's memetic, but she really IS the worst possible person to try to raise pressure against. You HAVE to crush her the first time, completely, because she's likely to come back with an order of magnitude more power than she needs to win next time. She doesn't fight fair, and she doesn't play by any rules save "have a bigger stick."
Taylor would be an even better ally, in that respect, but Emma's a huge obstacle there as long as he stays charmed by her and lets her run interference in that potential friendship. I won't even say "relationship," with the word's romantic connotations. Though Taylor would NOT be a good route into the Wards, due to her own independent streak, she might be a solid team-up that would help keep him from being conscripted by the Merchants just by virtue of her willingness and ability to escalate to preserve her and her friends' freedom. I know it's memetic, but she really IS the worst possible person to try to raise pressure against. You HAVE to crush her the first time, completely, because she's likely to come back with an order of magnitude more power than she needs to win next time. She doesn't fight fair, and she doesn't play by any rules save "have a bigger stick."
CedeTheBees
Probably high right now
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Greg this is real life. There are no dump stats.
ThatGazzer
Minds Eye Bind
- Location
- PNW
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Greg.
Buddy.
The smart thing is to shore up your weakest stats with your first big bump.
Not this.
I'd call you dumb, but your common sense is literally attached to a numerical value, you can't help it.
Oh wait, you can.
BY PUTTING STATS IN WIS!
Buddy.
The smart thing is to shore up your weakest stats with your first big bump.
Not this.
I'd call you dumb, but your common sense is literally attached to a numerical value, you can't help it.
Oh wait, you can.
BY PUTTING STATS IN WIS!
- Location
- Earth Prime
Guys, there's a difference between saying something is a "dump stat" and saying it's not worth the investment to raise. Greg isn't dismissing CHA and WIS because he doesn't think they're valuable. He's dismissing them because investing EVERYTHING HE HAS into even one of them gets him, at most, +2 to that stat. And +2 to either of those stats doesn't even put him approaching human average for his age group. Meanwhile, the way he spent the stats actually puts him into Serious Brute territory as a Cape.
Unless and until he finds a way to cheat around or otherwise eliminate those huge debuffs to WIS and CHA, Greg investing in them is wasting huge amounts of potential.
What he needs is a partner who HAS decent WIS to help direct him.
ThatGazzer
Minds Eye Bind
- Location
- PNW
- Pronouns
- They/Them
That's a good idea.
I'd call it wise, even.
Which is why Greg won't think about it, at least, not without serous prompting.
- Location
- Earth Prime
Fortunately, he has two candidates, one of whom is pursuing him to keep him from pursuing the other. Emma is the less-good, but more likely choice if Greg doesn't see through her crap, and Taylor is the one he's pursuing but might get derailed from by Emma if he chooses her, instead.
Emma's a jerk, but she WOULD keep him from making stupid choices that weren't in her service. Which limits the scope of his potential foolishness considerably.
ScottotheUnwise
Verified Crack (fic) Dealer
- Location
- Mulberry, Fl
Shouldn't he still have 2 Perk Pts to spend as he deferred them for later?
He should go with Growing Boy and Acrobatics, as he is going to survive by chugging "pots" of Power Aid and bouncing around in combat to find time to chug them...
- Location
- America
Actually since he is out hunting at night its best to have darkvision instead of acrobatic. Not to mention it'll help him escape via pitch black area.
CedeTheBees
Probably high right now
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Is it even possible to remove those debuffs? They seem like integral parts of his personality.
Icecoldfunk
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Australia
Personalities evolve, the debuff is, as you said, an integral part of his personality quantified, the debuff in not inflicted by his power. The only way he's getting rid of it is character growth.
Except this is a Gamer, debuffs can and are treated as something that can be removed in a binary on/off manner if the plot demands.
So that's a hard maybe.
Buff 3.5
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Buff 3.5
"I just need you to be honest with me, sweetheart."
Greg held back a groan as he stood in the foyer, the feeling of damp clothing pressing against his chest another annoyance to add to his ever-growing list. "Mom, that's the third time you've said that already."
Susan nodded, her arms crossed as she sat on the couch armrest. "Yes, I might have, but you know why."
Greg's gaze shifted, moving away from his mom's eyes to focus on her mouth. "No," he lied, the word sliding out much easier without eye contact. "No, Mom, I don't."
"Sweetie," his mother's tone shifted almost imperceptibly. "I just want to know what you were doing this morning."
Still avoiding eye contact, Greg raised a hand to scratch the side of his face, the action belying his nervousness. "I already told you."
"And I already told you," Susan retorted, the soft tone laced with the brittle edge she always used when trying not to seem angry, "I don't believe that you woke up at 6 am just to go for a run, Greg." The fingers of her hand tapped out a steady beat on an arm.
Greg frowned. "Mom, I don't know what you want me to say." He pulled at the sleeve of his long-sleeved white shirt with his other hand, the sweat-covered fabric clinging uncomfortably to his skin.
"What?" Susan made a frustrated gasping sound, as if trying to draw breath but hesitating. "I want you to say the truth, Greg." She rose to her feet, her body leaving the armrest of the couch to stand almost level with her son.
Greg took a deep breath through his nostrils, tipping his head back to further avoid looking his mom right in the eyes. Lying was hard enough when it came to his mom. Doing it with eye contact was asking for a miracle. All that considered, he couldn't exactly give his mom the truth.
The events of last night… this morning… a few hours ago were simply insane, the climax of the night being fucking Stormtiger of all people showing up. Compared to everything before the Nazi Airbender showed up, the rest of the night was relatively calm.
Of course, he went hunting for seven more Merchants. He did have a quest to complete. Insane night or not, he wasn't going to just ignore an easy six-thousand xp. He wasn't stupid. Finding any more Merchants was the real problem. While they were the most prolific gang in the Bay, they weren't exactly the most obvious. He couldn't exactly keep an eye out for their gang colors - purple and black -, because as disorganized as the Merchants tended to be, they were rarely seen wearing them. After a couple hours of searching, enough time for him to finally decide which perks he wanted, he finally managed to take down a few more individual Merchants.
With the boosts to his stats and liberal uses of his skills, the rest he found went down rather quickly. Surprise attacks were always useful, after all. By the time 5:55 had rolled around, he had just finished [Weapon Charge]-ing his bat to bash the last one in the ribs, plunging the thug's HP to 0. By themselves, the Merchants gave up around 185 XP each and 15 bucks each, bringing him one-third of the way to level six (+ 1295 XP, + $105). Greg knew that upon completing the mission, he'd be bound to hit the next level but what ended up happening was a surprise and a half.
However, that happy mood didn't really last all that long once he realized exactly what the time was, the knowledge making him wince as soon as he remembered his mom's habit of waking up shortly after six AM. Running home using the main streets would get him home much faster but that wasn't really an option, considering that the morning commute had already started. Greg didn't really feel like getting pulled over by Armsmaster for suspicious activity, especially considering his clothes still had blood all over them.
With several [Equip]s and [Unequip]s, Greg put away his combat gear and his bat, replacing them with a white long-sleeved shirt, a pair of grey sweatpants and white running shoes. That done, he began running home, taking special care to avoid any main streets. Within an hour, he had made it home, only to face his mom in a nightgown on the other side of the door, a scowl on her face.
"Mom," Greg began again, letting out a slight whine with the word. "I don't know what you want me to say. I told you, I've been running since six this morning. I didn't feel like the treadmill would do me much good, so I decided to go out for a workout."
"Greg…" Susan sighed, raising a hand to her face to massage the bridge of her nose, "I really don't know how you expect me to believe that. You never just go outside. That's just… not you."
"Mom, look." Without hesitating, Greg peeled the sweat-covered shirt from his body, leaving his chest bare. "Does this look like I'm lying?"
"Oh…" The scowl fell from her face, replaced by a look of shock as she stared at Greg's stomach. "Oh my goodness, Greg."
"You can't say that I haven't been working out." Greg flashed his mom a weak smile, stretching his arms out wide to offer an unobstructed view of his chest. The added points from last night had only served to enhance the appearance of his body, adding another layer of definition to what was once an unimpressive torso. "You've seen me working out every day, right?"
Susan blinked. "I… yes. I just… I didn't… I didn't know…" Greg watched as his mother closed her mouth, her head tilting to the side as if trying to resolve some incredible puzzle. "...how?"
"I don't know. I just started working out recently and my body just… changed, I guess." Greg shrugged, letting the sweaty shirt in his hand drop to the floor. "You always said I was a late bloomer. Just like you." The grin on his face was only partly faked, Greg simply happy to have a reason to show off. "I guess it just started hitting me."
"So… the fighting, the girls…" Susan trailed off, a pained look on her face.
"The working out," Greg added with a nod.
"...yes. The nonstop working out," Susan shook her head as she sat down on the armrest again. "Why? Why the working out anyway? It's all so… sudden. You're perfectly fine just the way you are."
Oh boy. "I've just… you know, been thinking of trying out for the football team," Greg replied with a shrug, glancing down at his feet as he spoke.
"The f… The football team?" Susan's hand went to her chest, her pained expression becoming slightly forlorn.
"Maybe… uhh… maybe…" He scratched the side of his face again, keeping his gaze away from his mother's. "Maybe try out for quarterback, I dunno."
"Like your father?"
"Um, well," Greg blinked at the sudden retort, surprised at the speed of his mother's response. "Not really. I didn't exactly think of Dad when I had the idea." His mind honestly hadn't even gone to his father, the man the farthest thing from his mind most days. Even when his dad was around, he had long given up trying to get his son interested in sports.
"Football… all this," His mom's gaze visibly dropped to his chest again, that look of pained dismay still present. "I'm glad that you found something new. I just… I don't know what to say, Greg."
"Umm, Mom?" Greg's grin dimmed slightly, confused by his mother's reaction. "Something wrong? You're acting like you're sad or... something." He stepped away from the door, taking a step closer when his mother hesitated to respond. "Mom?"
"No!" Susan let out a gasp and quickly stood up, advancing towards her son. Arms spread out wide, she engulfed him in a tight hug. "No, Greg. Not at all."
Okaaaaaay, that was unexpected. Greg blinked as his mother squeezed him even tighter as the hug went on, seemingly unwilling to let go. "Mom?"
His mother didn't reply, instead cupping the back of his head with a single hand and pulling him in even tighter. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I… was so hard on you and…" Greg heard a sniffle from his mom as she paused, "...and you're just changing and growing and… I'm so sorry."
"Mom, are… are you okay?" Greg replied. His hand came down in a repeated, jerky movement as Greg did his best to pat his mother on the back. This wasn't the first time he'd done it. In fact, a few years ago, it was almost routine for him to calm down his crying mom but doing it while lying… that was new.
"I'm…," Susan inhaled, pulling back from her son just enough to look him in the eye, "I should be the one asking you that. I yelled at you, I punished you, I took away your toys..." A hand rose up to wipe at her wet eyes. "I've been so terrible. Are you okay, sweetie?"
I killed someone.
I think I'm okay with killing people.
I think I died.
These thoughts and more raced through his head but Greg knew better than to give them a voice. Instead, he flashed his mother a smile. "Honestly, I," Greg shrugged, the smile on his face becoming slightly sincerer, "I feel fine." How messed up is it that that is the first honest thing I've said this morning?
Susan pulled him back into a hug again, her head resting on his shoulder and vice versa. "You don't know how happy I am to hear that."
For a long moment, she was silent, content to hug her son. Greg was just happy that there were no more awkward questions to dodge. Then, head still on her son's shoulder, Susan spoke.
"Sweetie?"
"Yeah, mom?"
"Are you on steroids?"
Pulling back, Greg gave his mom a look. "Mom!"
"Just a random thought. You don't have to answer, of course." Susan shook her head, letting go of her son. She patted Greg's cheek with one hand before turning around and heading toward the kitchen.
Steroids, really? Greg stared at his mom's retreating back, a befuddled expression on his face. After a moment, he flexed an arm and shrugged, nodding slowly. Honestly, I can see where she's coming from.
As Susan reached the threshold to the kitchen, her hand gripped the doorway and she looked back over her shoulder at her son. Like before, her gaze fell to his bare chest. She let out an audible sigh before speaking again. "Greg, sweetheart, not that I think you are doping, or whatever it's called, but you didn't actually give me an answer."
"Mom!"
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"I just need you to be honest with me, sweetheart."
Greg held back a groan as he stood in the foyer, the feeling of damp clothing pressing against his chest another annoyance to add to his ever-growing list. "Mom, that's the third time you've said that already."
Susan nodded, her arms crossed as she sat on the couch armrest. "Yes, I might have, but you know why."
Greg's gaze shifted, moving away from his mom's eyes to focus on her mouth. "No," he lied, the word sliding out much easier without eye contact. "No, Mom, I don't."
"Sweetie," his mother's tone shifted almost imperceptibly. "I just want to know what you were doing this morning."
Still avoiding eye contact, Greg raised a hand to scratch the side of his face, the action belying his nervousness. "I already told you."
"And I already told you," Susan retorted, the soft tone laced with the brittle edge she always used when trying not to seem angry, "I don't believe that you woke up at 6 am just to go for a run, Greg." The fingers of her hand tapped out a steady beat on an arm.
Greg frowned. "Mom, I don't know what you want me to say." He pulled at the sleeve of his long-sleeved white shirt with his other hand, the sweat-covered fabric clinging uncomfortably to his skin.
"What?" Susan made a frustrated gasping sound, as if trying to draw breath but hesitating. "I want you to say the truth, Greg." She rose to her feet, her body leaving the armrest of the couch to stand almost level with her son.
Greg took a deep breath through his nostrils, tipping his head back to further avoid looking his mom right in the eyes. Lying was hard enough when it came to his mom. Doing it with eye contact was asking for a miracle. All that considered, he couldn't exactly give his mom the truth.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
The events of last night… this morning… a few hours ago were simply insane, the climax of the night being fucking Stormtiger of all people showing up. Compared to everything before the Nazi Airbender showed up, the rest of the night was relatively calm.
Of course, he went hunting for seven more Merchants. He did have a quest to complete. Insane night or not, he wasn't going to just ignore an easy six-thousand xp. He wasn't stupid. Finding any more Merchants was the real problem. While they were the most prolific gang in the Bay, they weren't exactly the most obvious. He couldn't exactly keep an eye out for their gang colors - purple and black -, because as disorganized as the Merchants tended to be, they were rarely seen wearing them. After a couple hours of searching, enough time for him to finally decide which perks he wanted, he finally managed to take down a few more individual Merchants.
With the boosts to his stats and liberal uses of his skills, the rest he found went down rather quickly. Surprise attacks were always useful, after all. By the time 5:55 had rolled around, he had just finished [Weapon Charge]-ing his bat to bash the last one in the ribs, plunging the thug's HP to 0. By themselves, the Merchants gave up around 185 XP each and 15 bucks each, bringing him one-third of the way to level six (+ 1295 XP, + $105). Greg knew that upon completing the mission, he'd be bound to hit the next level but what ended up happening was a surprise and a half.
With the bonus added on top of the XP he got from completing the quest, he shot right past level six as well as the threshold for level seven. The increases to his skills after everything was said and done were just icing on the cake (+2 Reflexes, + 2 Slashing Resistance, + 1 Piercing Resistance, + 1 Blunt Force Resistance, +2 Cold Resistance, + 2 Weapon Charge, + 1 Angry Straight).
However, that happy mood didn't really last all that long once he realized exactly what the time was, the knowledge making him wince as soon as he remembered his mom's habit of waking up shortly after six AM. Running home using the main streets would get him home much faster but that wasn't really an option, considering that the morning commute had already started. Greg didn't really feel like getting pulled over by Armsmaster for suspicious activity, especially considering his clothes still had blood all over them.
With several [Equip]s and [Unequip]s, Greg put away his combat gear and his bat, replacing them with a white long-sleeved shirt, a pair of grey sweatpants and white running shoes. That done, he began running home, taking special care to avoid any main streets. Within an hour, he had made it home, only to face his mom in a nightgown on the other side of the door, a scowl on her face.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"Mom," Greg began again, letting out a slight whine with the word. "I don't know what you want me to say. I told you, I've been running since six this morning. I didn't feel like the treadmill would do me much good, so I decided to go out for a workout."
"Greg…" Susan sighed, raising a hand to her face to massage the bridge of her nose, "I really don't know how you expect me to believe that. You never just go outside. That's just… not you."
"Mom, look." Without hesitating, Greg peeled the sweat-covered shirt from his body, leaving his chest bare. "Does this look like I'm lying?"
"Oh…" The scowl fell from her face, replaced by a look of shock as she stared at Greg's stomach. "Oh my goodness, Greg."
"You can't say that I haven't been working out." Greg flashed his mom a weak smile, stretching his arms out wide to offer an unobstructed view of his chest. The added points from last night had only served to enhance the appearance of his body, adding another layer of definition to what was once an unimpressive torso. "You've seen me working out every day, right?"
Susan blinked. "I… yes. I just… I didn't… I didn't know…" Greg watched as his mother closed her mouth, her head tilting to the side as if trying to resolve some incredible puzzle. "...how?"
"I don't know. I just started working out recently and my body just… changed, I guess." Greg shrugged, letting the sweaty shirt in his hand drop to the floor. "You always said I was a late bloomer. Just like you." The grin on his face was only partly faked, Greg simply happy to have a reason to show off. "I guess it just started hitting me."
"So… the fighting, the girls…" Susan trailed off, a pained look on her face.
"The working out," Greg added with a nod.
"...yes. The nonstop working out," Susan shook her head as she sat down on the armrest again. "Why? Why the working out anyway? It's all so… sudden. You're perfectly fine just the way you are."
Oh boy. "I've just… you know, been thinking of trying out for the football team," Greg replied with a shrug, glancing down at his feet as he spoke.
"The f… The football team?" Susan's hand went to her chest, her pained expression becoming slightly forlorn.
"Maybe… uhh… maybe…" He scratched the side of his face again, keeping his gaze away from his mother's. "Maybe try out for quarterback, I dunno."
"Like your father?"
"Um, well," Greg blinked at the sudden retort, surprised at the speed of his mother's response. "Not really. I didn't exactly think of Dad when I had the idea." His mind honestly hadn't even gone to his father, the man the farthest thing from his mind most days. Even when his dad was around, he had long given up trying to get his son interested in sports.
"Football… all this," His mom's gaze visibly dropped to his chest again, that look of pained dismay still present. "I'm glad that you found something new. I just… I don't know what to say, Greg."
"Umm, Mom?" Greg's grin dimmed slightly, confused by his mother's reaction. "Something wrong? You're acting like you're sad or... something." He stepped away from the door, taking a step closer when his mother hesitated to respond. "Mom?"
"No!" Susan let out a gasp and quickly stood up, advancing towards her son. Arms spread out wide, she engulfed him in a tight hug. "No, Greg. Not at all."
Okaaaaaay, that was unexpected. Greg blinked as his mother squeezed him even tighter as the hug went on, seemingly unwilling to let go. "Mom?"
His mother didn't reply, instead cupping the back of his head with a single hand and pulling him in even tighter. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I… was so hard on you and…" Greg heard a sniffle from his mom as she paused, "...and you're just changing and growing and… I'm so sorry."
"Mom, are… are you okay?" Greg replied. His hand came down in a repeated, jerky movement as Greg did his best to pat his mother on the back. This wasn't the first time he'd done it. In fact, a few years ago, it was almost routine for him to calm down his crying mom but doing it while lying… that was new.
"I'm…," Susan inhaled, pulling back from her son just enough to look him in the eye, "I should be the one asking you that. I yelled at you, I punished you, I took away your toys..." A hand rose up to wipe at her wet eyes. "I've been so terrible. Are you okay, sweetie?"
I killed someone.
I think I'm okay with killing people.
I think I died.
These thoughts and more raced through his head but Greg knew better than to give them a voice. Instead, he flashed his mother a smile. "Honestly, I," Greg shrugged, the smile on his face becoming slightly sincerer, "I feel fine." How messed up is it that that is the first honest thing I've said this morning?
Susan pulled him back into a hug again, her head resting on his shoulder and vice versa. "You don't know how happy I am to hear that."
For a long moment, she was silent, content to hug her son. Greg was just happy that there were no more awkward questions to dodge. Then, head still on her son's shoulder, Susan spoke.
"Sweetie?"
"Yeah, mom?"
"Are you on steroids?"
Pulling back, Greg gave his mom a look. "Mom!"
"Just a random thought. You don't have to answer, of course." Susan shook her head, letting go of her son. She patted Greg's cheek with one hand before turning around and heading toward the kitchen.
Steroids, really? Greg stared at his mom's retreating back, a befuddled expression on his face. After a moment, he flexed an arm and shrugged, nodding slowly. Honestly, I can see where she's coming from.
As Susan reached the threshold to the kitchen, her hand gripped the doorway and she looked back over her shoulder at her son. Like before, her gaze fell to his bare chest. She let out an audible sigh before speaking again. "Greg, sweetheart, not that I think you are doping, or whatever it's called, but you didn't actually give me an answer."
"Mom!"
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
Greg Lucas Veder
Student
Level 7
XP: 35/14520
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 295/295 (Hoodie: +10 HP [305])
MP: 165/165
Will: 125/125
STR: 24
SPD: 17 (Shoes: + 1 SPD [18])
VIT: 15
INT: 21
WIS: 8 (-6 [2])
CHA: 3 ((+9) (-11) [1])
Unspent Stat Points: 6
Unspent Perk Points: 0
Cash: $826.00
Student
Level 7
XP: 35/14520
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 295/295 (Hoodie: +10 HP [305])
MP: 165/165
Will: 125/125
STR: 24
SPD: 17 (Shoes: + 1 SPD [18])
VIT: 15
INT: 21
WIS: 8 (-6 [2])
CHA: 3 ((+9) (-11) [1])
Unspent Stat Points: 6
Unspent Perk Points: 0
Cash: $826.00
Last edited:
MBsymphony
Just an awkward person here
- Location
- Asia
Put them in wisdom, PUT THEM IN WISDOM,PUT THEM IN WISDOM!!
- Location
- Море песка, солнце огня и множество злых сарацин
You forgot the threadmark, apparently.