WHY DO WE EVEN HAVE THAT LEVER
I meant "step or two above the Grimm" in the sense of how they are an outright enemy of humanity that she has no reason to show mercy to.
Like, I can understand him shattering how she views them, but I don't feel like that would be enough for her to go as far as she did for him from my understanding of how they knew each other.
She's too nice and heals him too much in my opinion (or it at least comes across that way). It's a big step to take him past "not gonna die" to "I'm fine, just came back from the edge of death". And the fact that you say he lost his ability to feel pain means that it isn't torture at that point to withhold what he needs to heal further (and thus leaving him less of a threat)
It also leaves giving him that stuff as an incentive for him to cooperate without Atlas running the risk of him getting supercharged by it.
Fair points, if I'm honest with myself.
I've edited the update a little, so the extent of his healing is a little clearer. Calling him whole was perhaps not entirely correct on my part- simply... together.
Since, you know, there's only so many containers of meat and meat-related products I can compare him to. The part about pain should probably go as well... actually, no, I know how to fix that.
So, one, someone rated one of my posts from way back on the first Overkill opportunity and I finally, after a year and change, get what Prok meant by quantum potatoes.
Secondly and more relevant to the update, WOO, GO PENNY
Does Jaune's condition when she rescued him mean he gets the nickname "Quarter"?
Paté.
B-but my Cultist-Simulator... ;_;
You deleted it...
The time controls are burnt into my screen. I damn well should delete it.
Uh... What are you talking about, again?
That was my fault, I managed to fumble and post an unfinished draft. Again.
I'm starting to feel sorry for Sivantic- every time I do this, she comments on something that's gone and looks like a crazy person.
Anyway, I apologise for how long this took- college is finally picking up, and I'm planning a second campaign, and another idea grabbed me by the face and dragged me around until I had a prologue and two chapters, which will probably be linked here sooner rather than later, and then Cultist Simulator happened...
Good Lord Cultist Simulator happened.
"... Jaune? Jaaauuuunne? Remnant to Jaune?"
You're jostled from your thoughts by Creme's singsong voice, and her hand waving over your eyes. When you actually look at her instead of a thousand yards ahead of you, you see a combination of amusement and mild concern in her face.
"You okay? You were spacing out real hard there." She asks you, amusement losing the war to concern.
"... It's nothing, sorry." You say, trying to keep the twinge of embarrassment from your voice.
For a moment afterwards, you wonder about telling them you wouldn't mind making up a team with them in Beacon, but you realise that, without knowing how teams are selected, you have no idea how to make that a reality.
Not to mention saying that kind of sappy shit out loud would make you want to
gag yourself with a spoon.
Creme's single raised eyebrow almost draws the truth out of you anyway.
"Er, I guess… it just, kinda hit me that we're going to be in Beacon this time next week." You don't exactly
lie, so much as tell the truth a moment too early for it to be entirely truthful.
Because it
does hit you, as soon as you say it.
You're going to Beacon next week.
Like.
It's
happening.
The event you have all spent four years of your life training for is occurring in six days time.
The revelation seems to settle over everyone else too, and the reactions are varied. Ada, somewhat predictably, shrugs at it, while Lumen suddenly finds something very interesting in his coffee, and Creme gives a nervous little laugh before joining Lumen in his coffee-staring. You opt for just resting your head in your hands and trying to ignore your stomach doing backflips.
Once it's settled into everyone's hearts, bar Ada, any kind of conversation is somewhat muted for a while. By the time you've finished your coffee, it's returned to normal, but that first shock never quite leaves you after the fact.
|||
Wednesday
"Unexpected progress is arguably the best progress." Roll: 18.
In one of your few sleepless nights, you code up enough of Directory_Repair() that you feel comfortable testing it on something organic. Out in the back garden, you place down a plywood board and bite into the apple that is your test subject, placing it down on the board and stepping back as you chew on its sweet flesh. Your stomach rumbles, unhappy that that's the first thing you've had to eat in about 16 hours of being active.
Knowing how it works, and looking at what you've managed to code out of it so far, you should be able to test that what you have does what it
should do, and not something completely different, like a cancer beam, or something equally stupid.
You swallow the mouthful of apple and start documenting your thoughts on the subject verbally.
"Organic test one- data gathering for fine-tuning purposes. As is, Function is not suitable for regular use, but testing it shouldn't immediately blow up in my face. Bracket, run Directory_Repair()- did I code in variable intensity yet?"
You have not. Abort test?
You consider it for a moment, then shrug.
"It's not a destructive Function. What's it gonna do, heal it too hard?"
{That is a very real possibility.}
True, but it'll at least be interesting to watch.
{Jaune, you can't just randomly test Beta Functions to distract yourself-}
"
ANYWAY,
test one, full intensity, target coordinates [135, -163, 409], call Directory_Repair_Beta in 3, 2, 1, go."
Before Blue can say anything else, your sword is infused with a deep pink light, which quickly focuses onto the apple in a tight beam.
At first, nothing happens. But slowly, surely, you watch in deep interest as the apple begins to grow, new flesh bubbling out from within and slowly being covered over with bright red skin. Within moments, the apple is whole once more.
... And, a little more than whole. You watch with less interest and more mild horror as the new flesh bubbles over, the entire apple splitting as it grows from inside, the splits healing over with loose skin and filling out with flesh to split open again, the cycle continuing until the Transistor finally cuts the power.
Once the growth stops, you watch the new skin wrinkle and the flesh underneath brown, until nothing is left but a rather large pile of almost-compost on a plywood board, blue mould foaming up at the very end like a final nail in the coffin.
{... In retrospect, an apple probably wasn't the best way to test this. They don't really contain enough energy to heal from damage, which is, fair, it's not exactly their
purpose, is it? The only reason we got as far as we did is that we actively started pumping energy into the cells themselves.}
You nod, looking at the remains before something Blue just said starts to stand out to you.
"You put more energy into it? How?"
{It's part of the Semblance makeup already- Teal gives up some of her Aura to kickstart the healing process, which is why it drains her after a while. We just did the same thing, but, you know, we have a lot more to work with, and you still haven't coded in a hard limit to how much we can pump into it. The end result is that we can force it to heal until it's no longer healing, and end up with undirected growth.}
… So… what you're saying is…
{Congratulations, Jaune. You've created the cancer beam. Your Aurus peace prize is in the mail as we speak.}
Ignoring your friend's sarcasm, you look down at the mess you've made and let your mind wander on the possibilities.
The horrible, horrible possibilities.
… You're gonna code in that hard limit now. And a power scale.
Extra progress made: d100: 93. New total: 538/700.
Function Offshoot discovered: Quine(): You… really don't want to consider the implications of actually using this on a living creature. At all. Ever. But it's there. Sitting in a file, just, waiting for you to work on it. (For obvious reasons, you're never going to use this as is- however, it can grant a bonus to coding similar Functions you might find at some point.)
|||
{Any luck?}
I got something out of it- a timer. 1,287,308 seconds and counting down.
{Just under 15 days. Until what?}
Hopefully, until we can tell Jaune. I can't see anything obviously dangerous- I think it's just locked us out until the timer runs out.
{Hopefully. Anyway, I think we've got bigger problems to deal with here.}
You see it too, right?
{That our boy is going stir-crazy working himself up about going to Beacon next week and trying to distract himself from it by working himself towards a burnout?}
You do, good.
... I'm worried about him, Blue.
{I am too, but I don't have the slightest idea how to fix it. There's no way we can convince him to relax, he won't even entertain the idea… hold that thought- look at the Schnee line real fast. What do you see?}
A girl wearing a nightdress doing a very impressive emotional impression of a puma in a cage.
{Exactly. Looking through the logs, she's been stuck in that hotel ever since the 'security breach.' The only bright side is that they haven't tried to install anything else on her devices since we left.}
I doubt they've learned their lesson. Still, cooped up in one of the most luxurious hotels in the city. The textbook definition of a gilded cage.
… Alright, I'll bite. What are you thinking?
{Phone her. Make Jaune give her an excuse to leave. Build connections, distract him for a day, keep her from going completely stir-crazy, making our good deed for the day. That's, what, three birds with one stone?}
One leads to the other; let's call it two and a half. We just need to make sure Jaune won't flat out refuse, though.
{Call it a hunch, but I don't think he'll get the chance to.}
|||
It's at almost the exact moment you finally quantify the energy the Transistor throws into Directory_Repair() and cap it at roughly a hundredth of what was pumped into that poor apple, that you feel your heart drop into your boots.
Once you rule out the possibility of a panic attack, you can actually place a reason behind this feeling.
Blue and Bracket are up to something, and whatever those idiots are planning, it probably involves you doing something fucking stupid.
Unbidden, your contacts list comes into view.
{Jaune. I just want you to know that what we're about to do is for your own good.}
Your feelings of betrayal are both incredibly intense and impossible to put into words because
you don't even know what he's doing yet-
You watch as Weiss Schnee's number is added to your contacts list, then called. By the time the first connecting tone has finished, the weight of what's happening finally sinks in.
"Why?!" You hiss at your sword, panic blowing through your mind at speed.
{Because you need some human interaction that involves actually being forced to take care of yourself, and meeting up with the heiress of a company is definitely
that. You've been awake for 22 hours, and the last thing you had to drink was a glass of water,
yesterday. You're stressing out, and it's making you neglect yourself.}
… Really?
You, actually think about it for a while, and, almost to prove his point, your throat suddenly feels
incredibly dry, your stomach apparently trying its best to cave in on itself. To call it a thoroughly unpleasant realisation is like calling low-grit sandpaper a little rough.
Mentally, you end the call.
"Ok. Ok, fine, you've made your point." You tell Blue placatingly.
"I'll, go see if I can grab some leftovers, then-"
Your Scroll begins ringing again.
For some reason that you cannot begin to comprehend, though the simple fact that she is is turning your blood into a thick slush in your veins, Weiss Schnee has decided to
call you back.
{You're not the only one who needs to get out of the house.}
… Ah.
Ah.
Even understanding the reason for this, it takes a couple of deep breaths before you can build up the courage to actually answer the call, but you do.
-I don't know how you got this number from me, or why you were calling, but the answer is yes.-
"... Er, I didn't, really have anything planned out-"
-Arc, you are the first undeniable excuse I have had to leave this hotel in a week and a half, at this point I would be happy with being kidnapped
just for the change of scenery. Tomorrow, Caredhina Station, five o'clock, don't be late.-
Weiss hangs up before you can say anything to her.
You almost wish you were holding your Scroll just so you could stare at it in disbelief, but that kind of satisfaction has been taken from you by the march of technology, and staring at the call icon in your vision just doesn't have the same feel to it.
{... So, how about those leftovers?}
Despite your first thoughts of being a petty little fuck and giving Blue the silent treatment, your stomach decides to show off its impression of a dying whale, which just kind of ruins the mood.
"Yeah, probably a good idea."
Still. You suppose this
is a better distraction than giving an apple cancer.
|||
Thursday
Heart palpitations and excess of sweat detected. Are you nervous, Jaune?
Brilliant deduction, Maple.
You're on the train to Caredhina, wearing your best formal shirt and a pair of jeans, on Blue's orders, and that made your sisters suspicious so you had to fend them off which only made that shitshow worse, and now the tag is itching at your back and you can't fix it because you're in public and the bathroom has been occupied for the past thirty minutes by one guy apparently giving birth to a watermelon
agh god you're actually meeting up with Weiss Schnee to go for coffee or something holy fuck what is your life anymore-
{Deep breaths, buddy.}
-The next stop is, Caredhina. This train is bound for, Beacon Bay.-
The synthesised voice of the train announcement snaps you free of your nerves, and you realise it's time to get out. A small gesture of your fingers brings your sword and your Cell into step behind you, and you step off the train.
Caredhina station is relatively large, for where it is on the edge of the commercial district, the wide platforms and the high ceiling of glass and steel making it feel airier than a building made mainly from glass, steel, and concrete.
Your Scroll vibrates, a text message coming through from the very same person you're dreading to meet.
-I'm waiting in the foyer. Where are you?-
-Just off the train and going through the gate. Be there in a moment.-
Closing the interface, you proceed to place your ticket in the gate and pray to every god you can think of it's not a new guy on duty.
When you aren't immediately flagged down to explain the floating weapon, you make your way through the gates and into the waiting area. It's been a while since you've been stopped in a train station, actually.
Maybe they finally put your picture up in the staff room?
You walk out into the foyer and find Weiss sitting there, scrolling past a bunch of pictures on her phone. The sight of her dumps a bucket of ice water over your heart, the sensation spreading from your chest outwards, turning your blood into ice in your veins.
Despite wearing what could ostensibly be called casual clothes, a simple white turtleneck and blue jeans, you manage to feel completely and utterly outdressed by her, but what truly catches your eye is, well, hers.
The scar beneath her eye is small, but an angry red mark on an otherwise flawless face nonetheless. Makeup isn't your forte, but as far as you can tell, she's made no effort to mask it.
Wearing it like a badge of pride.
You get over your hitched breath, and realise she's gotten up and is now
walking towards you oh god-
"Hello again." Weiss greets you lightly, only to stop in her tracks when she flicks an eye over to your sword and raises an eyebrow in confusion.
"... I'm going to assume that you didn't bring that along because you expected to be attacked, so…" She trails off for a second, furrowing her brow the tiniest bit before she continues. "... I must admit, I'm somewhat at a loss for what it actually is."
"Er, that's, a pretty long story." You tell her, somewhat hoping to ward her off.
"Long enough to justify ordering food for?" She asks, completely dashing those plans.
Well, guess she's getting what she wants.
"If you want the unabridged version, then probably."
A little smile graces her lips, and suddenly you find yourself hand in hand with her as she all but physically drags you out of the train station and into Vale's commercial district proper, all while the Cell runs circles around your feet, and your sword follows behind you, snickering the entire way.
|||
You walk into a cafe you're not intimate friends with the owner of, and find that a hard stare from Weiss Schnee is better than any pile of medical documents you could ever produce, which is why your sword is still waiting by your table on the veranda while the waiter who tried to kick up a scene limps off behind the manager, your order in hand.
"Th-thanks. I, er, normally have to make a bit of a scene if I want to eat out somewhere new." You tell her somewhat sheepishly.
"Well, it's just something my mother taught me, for when people forget their manners. Now, will you tell me why exactly you brought what I can only imagine is a horribly advanced Huntsman's weapon along?"
You start to speak, only to stall for a second when you see her eyes. Underneath the obvious curiosity there, but not quite hidden behind it, is a crystal clear
shard of icy calculation, measuring and remeasuring you with every second that passes, and seeing it there sends a mild shiver down your back.
{She's vulnerable. You probably know more about her than anybody else on the planet, when it comes to how she's feeling. She wants something from you to make up the difference.}
Really?
{Best I can tell. Besides, it's not as if you've ever been shy about telling people about your Semblance. What's different here?}
… True.
"I have an uncontrolled Semblance, and having my sword around offloads most of the strain it puts on me." You tell her, as bluntly as possible.
Weiss has the decency to look somewhat guilty for a second before she wipes her face clean of emotion.
"... Ah. Yes, I suppose that is a good reason to carry it with you." She mumbles blandly, trying to sound as if you didn't just drop what should be a
huge deal for anyone else on her without the slightest hesitation.
"Hey, it's what I was dealt. I can't say I hate the perks, though." You tell her, not quite keeping the smile off your face as you try to placate her.
Once the minor distraction of your coffees arriving passes, she raises a delicate eyebrow, curiosity returning in full force.
"Perks? Like what, exactly?"
{Oh boy.}
Here we go.
Can it, you don't get enough chances to preen your feathers as is.
"I can tell you that the waiter that kicked up a fuss was a cat Faunus. His tail was amputated, traumatically, about three years ago, and he still suffers from balance issues when he walks. That's why he has such an unsteady gait."
Weiss blinks, the slightest hint of astonishment on her face before her cooler head prevails, and she fixes you with a disbelieving look.
"A nice story, but not something you can comfortably prove." She says after a moment, and your pride withers ever so slightly.
... You hate to admit it, but she has a point.
{Jaune. Schnee. Closest thing in Atlas to royalty?}
Ooh.
Ooh.
<Well, how about learning any language I want in about 2 weeks?> You tell her,
smugging your way through High Atlesi as well as your soft Valish mouth will let you. Such a harsh language doesn't quite roll off your tongue as well as bog Mistrali, but you've been learning it a lot longer.
That gets a reaction out of her.
"
Sie sprechen hohes Mantal?" She says in shock, the rough tongue rolling off hers effortlessly in comparison to you.
<Where in the world did you learn that?>
<It's amazing what you can find in a library if you look hard enough.>
|||
"HEY KIDS WANNA SEE MY LEE HARVEY OSWALD IMPRESSION-" Event Roll: 3. Attack Roll:18. Defense Roll: 16... you can still do something about it, at least.
<... And they just never quite got it right, so I stopped bothering with correcting them. Now, hearing my name pronounced properly actually sounds weirder than the bastardised Valish version I'm stuck with.>
You nod intently, trying not to think too hard about the fact that you're learning stuff about Weiss Schnee that some reporters would
kill to have. The heiress has taken to her grandfather tongue like a fish back to water, wielding the harsh, blocky language with all the grace of her swordplay, and sounding so much more relaxed for it. It always fascinated you, listening to somebody speak in their most comfortable language.
<I... have to say, you seem to have relaxed a lot since we switched languages. Do you miss having someone to talk to in it that much?>
She looks at you for a second, stalling in her tracks, and you have to wonder if you may have misstepped.
<Aside from yourself, my grandfather is the only person I know who speaks the language fluently, and that's because he grew up during the Great War. If anybody's listening in, they're not going to understand anything we say, and it's been a while since I've felt I can speak freely.>
You nod, catching...
most of that, you think. Honestly, you were kinda distracted by her stroking 01's dome, the little Cell always happy to get scritches from a new person.
... Opportunistic little bastard-
You notice your sword twitch ever so slightly, and suddenly the tip is at your neck, and the blueish haze of Turn() has come over you. Pushing down confusion, you make obtaining a status report your main priority.
"What's the problem, you two?"
Projectile just entered visual range- .50 calibre bullet, current trajectory tracks it to Schnee's temple from one of the office buildings down the block. We have options, but not many.
A fucking
50 cal? What are they trying to do, give the cafe a new paint job?!
{Apparently.}
... One time.
You just want
one fucking time to go right-
{We know, buddy. We know, but today isn't that day, so suck it up and play the hero.}
Right. Get Schnee out of the way.
You watch as the simulation moves, throwing the table out of the way and then throwing itself at the hazed out Weiss, taking her out of the bullet's trajectory and leaving it to hit the frame of the window behind you. Once you're comfortable that you're not about to see your date's brains painting the outside of the café, you finalise your plan.
End Turn().
It says something for how fast that a bullet of that calibre can move that you see it do exactly that while your body goes through the directed motions, a small graph in the corner of your eye charting its flight and when exactly Schnee is safe.
The table is gently flipped to the side, empty coffee cups and plates shattering under its weight as you leap at Weiss, pulling her off her chair and to the ground. Her face shifts ever so slowly from her little introspective pout into shock, but you barely notice it as you keep an eye on the graph.
Red. Red. Red. Orange.
Red?!
Green!
Turn() ends just in time to hear a crack of thunder somewhere down the street. Glass rains down behind you, and before you do anything else, you hook the table you just threw to the side by the leg, drawing it close and shielding you both.
<What the-> Weiss begins to yell as all this happens, before the screaming starts and she cuts herself off, looking at you with wide eyes. It suddenly occurs to you that you're pinning her to the ground by her arms, and you immediately release her.
"Sniper. Keep low, and stay behind the table." You say, moving closer to the steel plate of the table top, Weiss joining you as quickly as she can, pulling up a pale blue Aura as she does.
"What?! But we're in the middle of the city centre! How do they expect to get away with this in broad daylight?"
As if on cue, you hear the screech of brakes and several car doors opening, and guns cocking.
{Shit. White Fang.}
Oh come the fuck on was a sniper not enough-
{Schnee hunting
is the organisational pastime, and it's no secret that she's going to become a Huntress.}
"Spread out. They might have tried to run." You hear a professional, but rough, man say from the other side of your barricade.
Shit.
Bracket, time to full functionality?
18 seconds to full functionality. Jaunt() is unaffected but ineffective for marksman's range. Suggested plan- incapacitate ground infantry then move out of marksman's line of sight.
{Out of the question. You can't handle concentrated fire from four guns at once- not without armour, and definitely not without Functions. Worst comes to the worst, we'll distract them and you two can run, but right now you just need to stay still until.}
Dammit!
Against your better instincts, you feel your heart rushing, tunnel vision.
You don't care
how much you've trained, you
cannot handle four armed men without Functions-
Five, if you count the marksman.
NOT HELPING.
You start to feel like you can't catch your breath, a weight in the back of your head like a growing knot-
is this what a cerebral oedema feels like?
"Jaune?"
Weiss shakes you out of it, and you realise that there's a very large patch of white under the hand you were resting against the cool steel.
Sysadmin in danger- flash-Processing underway. Range- 3 metres. Flash commencing in 3, 2, 1-
The white patch
explodes out, consuming the table then the ground beneath you, Processed matter rippling up around you into a low fortified wall, red eyes bristling the top and focusing on the gunmen. Cursing and gunshots fill the air, but a small burst of information tells you the wall is only a little dented, and quickly fixed at that.
You blink, staring down at 01, who stares up at you with its wide, unblinking eye.
"Process defence protocols active. Please, state intended plan."
Pointedly ignoring Weiss's wide-eyed gawping at your tiny talking robot, you consider the options unfolding in your mind courtesy of the Process. Your... many, many,
many options.
Emergency Processing complete. 3-metre sphere of non-organic material now under Process command. Preliminary fortifications constructed. Preliminary less-lethal defences armed.
Battlefield analysis: Sysadmin and priority target are behind preliminary fortifications, at the 'top' of a T-junction, outside of a café. A marksman has line of sight down the length of the junction and is considered a threat until line of sight can be broken. Four armed White Fang members have appeared at the scene, and are currently firing at the fortifications.
Suggested plan of action- incapacitate White Fang members on the ground and break line of sight with the sniper.
Process Mesh in the immediate area can support- preliminary fortifications, LLDs, and two Creeps OR four Badcells.
Designate Process units for initial manufacture:
[] Creeps- Pros: Higher-power weapons, more physical weight for restraint, more durable. Cons: Present a larger target, slower, less numerous.
[]Badcells- Pros: Smaller, faster targets, greater numbers, capable of limited flight. Cons: Lower-powered weapons, unable to restrain assailants.
Designate Fortification/LLD orders:
[] Defence Augmentation- sacrifice LLDs in order to strengthen defences, leaving only Transistor and manufactured Process units for offensive actions- guarantees sysadmin and priority target safety against the current level of aggression- escalation may negate benefits. (High defence, Low offence)
[] Suppressing Fire- use manufactured variable-wavelength lasers to irritate skin, ignite clothing, and create minor plasma explosions where possible, driving assailants behind cover and keeping them there, or incapacitating them. (Equal offence/defence)
[] Offence Augmentation- sacrifice defence in order to take down the targets in a rapid and decisive manner, while leaving sysadmin and priority target at risk of damage. (High offence, Low defence)
Processed Matter Orders:
[] Terrain Mastery- use Processed matter to manipulate the terrain and temporarily break line of sight with the marksman and prevent ground forces from regrouping. (Immediate effect, a potential for high collateral damage)
[] Marksman Elimination- enable creation of long-range laser cannon to eliminate marksman. (3 rounds of combat- possibility of dealing fatal damage to marksman)
[] Personal Transport- Processed matter will be used to enable mobility of preliminary defences, allowing sysadmin and priority target to escape safely. (2 rounds of combat- sacrifices defence and offence in final round before manufacture, but almost guarantees an escape)
[] Write-In (if you can think of another plan that can be accomplished with high-power lasers, two Creeps, and a crapton of Processed mass, have at it. Subject to GM veto, for obvious reasons.)
. It's by far the best Turn() function you can have!
