Legendary Tinker (Worm/LoL)

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I rate Charmed a 6 or 7. It was either wait, fuck up or escape. The 7 was entirely because we got to read it through quick. He hadn't had much agency so it wasn't all that good. He was stuck in a place with limited choices. Sure he got revenge on them and grew from his experiences but Contessa and Alexandera's confirmed involvment soured any happy feelings when he escaped.

Okay enough of that. What I didn't like about Charmed was because of his limited options. Sure he snuck a trick or two in there but he couldn't really DO anything.

Other things I've not gotten answers on despite it's arc has ended.
When mc killed Camilla, what was it that cut his leg? Was it from a knife that fell on him or a knife wielded by her?
His old friends felt like we have just gotten to know them and now they rips away from us.
What did those who knew of his involvement with his killing think about a 8 year old with a body count on double digits?
How many did he kill that night? It could be everything from 15 to 40 people depending on how many guards there was.
There are so many things that I'm curious on what happen and it was all skipped over in 4.1.
How was his therapy? Is it malicious, good therapy or therapy with some hidden agenda?
Because you introduced Contessa and Alexanderia so direct we will always be paranoid on every little thing could or couldn't be a plot by a path.
How was Phoenix branch when he was found? It was mentioned that Alexanderia was there to prevent a branch from collapsing.
 
Ugh… I don't write grief very well.
You did just fine. The more devastating a loss is, the harder it is to express the emotional quality behind all the distortions a loss makes in life. Your reference to Kuber-Ross's five stages and bouncing around them instead of going through them once was a refreshingly realistic observation to see in a fictional work. No one "writes grief well." If they did, it would overwhelm the rest of the story, and I'm enjoying this story too much to want to see it crash and burn on that point.
 
4.2 Ripples
Ripples 4.2

2000, August 20: Washington, DC, USA


Inspiration danced before me, its turquoise light bathing me in a comforting glow. I'd stood in this temple countless times before, but never like this. The core of the World Rune was shining brighter than before, almost too bright to see. The nine censers that stood around the core seemed like a simple candle in comparison.

It was calling me.

"Why though?" I asked. "I haven't made anything. Hell, I wasn't even able to finish making Gwen's scissors because there was so much red tape to go through… Was it the debut? Are you trying to tell me to make a fresh start? Or maybe that I'm now fully free of Camille's master effect? Or maybe this is anticipation?"

I had no idea and I received no answers. Even if the World Rune was conscious in its own way, it wasn't the sort to give me a response. I'd just have to live with the mystery of it all.

I shook my head with exasperated fondness and stepped forward.

I did what I'd done before and reached out, expecting one of the stars inhabiting the three outer rings to descend into my hand. Information in the form of memories and knowledge would fill me, giving me an ability I didn't have before.

Or, that was what was supposed to happen.

Instead, the outer rings danced out of my way, each star grazing my fingertips and sending a bolt of heat through my body.

Just when I was getting impatient, the core ignited brighter than before. It was drawing me into the light, a promise of power I couldn't begin to comprehend.

"A… Keystone?" I tried. I knew what those were of course. In-game, they were major runes that granted immense buffs. Players would build entire playstyles around each and having the "wrong" runes was a popular excuse for those who just plain sucked at League. Normally, a player could unlock one Keystone and three lesser runes. It seemed that the World Rune before me would work accordingly.

Inspiration beckoned me forward with another pulse.

"First Strike, Glacial Augment, and Unsealed Spellbook if I remember right. Any of them would be… game changing... Do I get to choose?"

No, no I did not. The altar of the temple sported three orbs that made up the core, but I couldn't tell the difference between any of them for the life of me. I didn't need to do anything on my own though, because one of the Keystones separated itself and rested on my hand.

Then my world became pain.

Cold fire spread through me as Glacial Augment and I became one. I felt like liquid nitrogen was being injected into my veins, like my body and spirit both were being scalded and scoured raw, taken apart, only to be remade. I was getting an intimate lesson in the "augment" part of the Keystone and it was as though my entire existence was judged and found wanting.

The Keystone had taken one look at my body and soul and decided to renovate in the most excruciating way before moving in. It was the single most agonizing thing I'd ever felt in my life, and I was including both nearly drowning to death and having a charged power cable rake across my eyes.

"It carved mountains, drained oceans, and burned skies," I heard Ryze say. Or perhaps I imagined it in the delirium.

I didn't know how long I stood there as I got a firsthand experience of the power Ryze so feared. Eternity blended into a moment as I screamed myself hoarse. Until finally, the pain came to an end and I could hear myself think again.

And with my thoughts came knowledge beyond my own. Supernatural clarity washed over me like the whitewater of a newly melted stream.

As if it wasn't blatantly obvious, a Keystone was special. It wasn't just a milestone that marked my progress with a third of a World Rune. It was as its name implied: Just as the keystone of an arch was the wedge at the top that kept it all together by distributing pressure evenly throughout the structure, the Keystones were the defining pieces that held a World Rune together. They were Inspiration, distilled in a way I couldn't fully grasp.

I would one day become a celestial. A piece of the infinite dwelled in me.

On some level, I'd known that of course. I'd known exactly what the World Runes were. I was an out of context spectator and that gave me some information that not even Tyrus or Ryze had.

But it had never hit home quite so clearly before. A piece of infinity was bound to my soul.

I didn't even have to do a single thing. So long as I continued to bond with the World Rune, I would one day become immortal. The unobtainable ambition of alchemists and kings, granted to me simply because I existed.

Laughter welled up from within at the absurdity.

When even that finally petered out, I was left with the space to breathe again and examine the changes to my soul.

The Keystone could not integrate perfectly in a normal human body. So, it didn't even try. If the vessel was weak, the vessel must be changed. The icy immolation I'd felt was it forcibly changing me, turning me into something that could wield its power, turning me into an Iceborn.

I was now kin with Ashe, Braum, and others.

Becoming an Iceborn didn't magically make me as physically powerful as Braum, nor did it give me the precision and grace of Ashe. What it did give me was potential. I knew without testing that I would never again be bothered by the cold. I knew that I had an innate affinity for ice magic, though it manifested most clearly in creation, as did all aspects of Inspiration.

When I first considered my options, I discovered that making a sliver of True Ice the size of a guitar pick would cost me an overwhelming one hundred Mana Crystals. I knew now that this was because my mana wasn't suited for it. With Glacial Augment, that price was halved to start, and it would decrease further as I became stronger.

I could also manipulate ice directly, a discount pokemon, though barely more than a snowball at the moment. Now that the Minion Dematerializer was known to the PRT, I needed new aces up my sleeves and both the Hextech Flashtraption and the Glacial Augment seemed like excellent last resort weapons. Best of all, Glacial Augment didn't have a built-in ammo system.

X​

I yawned and turned in my bed. I reached out and slapped the alarm clock on snooze before rolling up into my blankets again.

"Morning, my son," I heard my mom pour me a cup of Oracle's Elixir. She placed it in my hands as I sat up with bleary eyes. I drank and saw the world expand around me.

"Morning, mom," I said as I examined the premature lines on her face, lines from worrying about me, the son who was too valuable to be ignored and too weak to stand on his own.

One more reason to stop holding myself back.

In a lot of ways, I thought that my kidnapping did more damage to my mom than me. This wasn't the first time she watched me sleep. Ever since I got back, she would enter my room to check on me in the middle of the night. She was almost always awake and waiting for me in the morning. She had a compulsive need to know what I was doing at all hours, to know that I was safe.

As weird as the feeling of having someone watch me sleep was, I tried not to hold it against her.

Moving so near the sea hadn't exactly been a comforting notion. It took her weeks until she finally gave the go ahead to move us out east and even then it was only the promise of personal tutelage from the world's greatest tinker that sold it.

She was getting better, but it'd likely be a while before she trusted anyone else with my safety again.

If I was being honest with myself, I wasn't a fan of the sea either. Just looking out at the horizon made me wonder when the waves would start to rise.

I looked at mom's concerned face. She wasn't even thirty but already had creases from worrying. It made me want to murder them all over again.

"Wash up and come to breakfast. I made your favorite," she said with a watery smile as she left for the kitchen.

"Yes, mom, good morning to you too."

After a breakfast of rice and tuna omelets, I set up in the living room and flowed through the stances of the second string of kata favored by the Shojin acolytes, something about the Dragon of Ionia breathing life into the plains or somesuch. I'd graduated from the first in the past month, which really only meant that I didn't feel like my ligaments were in open rebellion after the first set.

The second was as hard as the first, though I now knew for a fact that what had felt impossible then could be achieved even with my lackluster athleticism.

"A true master is an eternal student, right, Yi?"

I rolled my hips as I took a long stride forward, arms swirling in a circle that ended with my palms meeting the hardwood floor. In Lee Sin's hands, this move would have cratered the earth and launched a shockwave that could shatter great trees.

Slowly dragging myself with one foot like a serpent, my arms rose back up into the archer stance. Then my back foot followed at the same snail's pace, curving all the way around my body in what would be a textbook horizontal snap kick if it were faster before straightening out again parallel to my torso.

All the while, I was trying to channel mana into my limbs.

It was a heady experience. Being an Iceborn didn't just mean an affinity for snow cones and poro snacks. With an affinity for ice magic came magic in general. Mana flowed more readily, which meant the Tear filled more rapidly, which in turn meant my body felt lighter, stronger, faster. I wasn't suddenly Captain America, but I moved with a fluidity and crispness that was found among seasoned martial arts masters in my old life, far beyond what an eight year old should be able to accomplish.

I'd never thought of myself as graceful before, but that was the only word that came to mind.

I slowed to a stop as mom clapped from the sofa. "That was amazing, Yusung," she said, but became hesitant. "Was that…"

"Yeah," I nodded. "It was a part of my powers."

Some doctor and a Korean translator had explained the concept of second triggers to her. I didn't correct them of course, I didn't think I even could put words to what I was. A second trigger was the most convenient way for me to handwave my new abilities away. It meant that I was the fascination of every parahuman scholar and "expert" in the world.

My "second trigger" was one more reason I was moved to DC; Johns Hopkins University was one of the best medical universities in the country and plenty of these so-called experts gathered here. The first week I'd moved here, spent my days almost exclusively in various interviews and lab settings. A second trigger open to being studied was rare, and not one had anything close to the versatility demonstrated by my own.

Cauldron likely knew otherwise, but they were happy to keep their mouths shut for their own machinations. As always.

Mom… She didn't take it too well. I was no psychologist, but for her, it was one more way in which she failed me.

I gave her a hug. "I'm going to get strong, mom," I promised, "so strong that no one can ever take me away again. So strong that even Alexandria won't be able to tell me what to do."

X​

One of the perks of being forcibly relocated by the federal government, and being incredibly valuable besides, was the free housing. By the whims of the bureaucrats on high, mom and I were now among the vaunted elite of homeowners.

We, like many of the upper-middle class, didn't actually live in DC. We lived in the Clarendon neighborhood in Arlington, Virginia, three metro stops away from Foggy Bottom, home of both George Washington University and many federal buildings, including the national headquarters of the PRT.

Our house was a two room affair, three counting a small basement. Having only one car, the garage doubled as storage space for my materials. I intended to co-opt the basement into a lab. I hadn't had the chance to do much, but by the time I was done, I intended to make this house a goddamn fortress to rival the Immortal Bastion. And if the PRT had anything to say about it, fuck them.

No more holding back. No more being the backline potion dispenser. In Earth-Bet? Weakness was a sin.

I had plans. I did not forget about my promise. I swore that if I ever got out of the mess with the Crips, I'd tinker myself a way to flip two birds to masters and thinkers.

Thinkers… They were complicated. Powerful thinkers could just pull information out of their asses. Their Shards would tell them details like asshole spectators spoiling a movie. Tattletale, Contessa, Coil, and even Dinah were all examples of this.

Upon reflection, I had to admit that Lawless fell into his camp too, though he was far more limited. Had he been smarter, had he not underestimated me because of my age, had he been more cautious… I would have lost. It grated at me to admit, but I would have been forced to resort to far worse than the Dream Blossom Censer to escape. And had I done that…

A loss, no matter how I looked at it.

The problem was, I didn't think I could just make myself a blank slate to thinkers, not unless I could directly fuck up their Shards. And if I could do that, Scion wouldn't be a problem. If I couldn't interfere with the Shard network, the other option would be to make myself incomprehensible, a "does not compute" error. I… I wasn't willing to touch the Void. I wasn't that desperate yet. There were other options, but not many and none without their price. It would take a while to enact the ones I knew.

But masters though? Those were far simpler.

All parahuman master effects boiled down to two schools: body or mind. And in truth, even the latter was just nuanced body manipulation. It'd be more accurate to say that some masters manipulated the nervous and muscle systems of their victims while the rest hijacked control of the emotion centers in their brains. Cherish, Nice Guy, Valefor, and Tequila all fell into this latter category. They either overwhelmed cognitive thought with emotions or suppressed higher thoughts via Shard-assisted hypnosis.

And that was why I spent the entire day converting my stockpile of holy water into the Water of Life.

The Water of Life was such a versatile thing. An intrinsic connection to life was great, but I was interested in the more limited uses found by the Vesani: memories.

Yes… Gwen's hallowed scissors, as phenomenally versatile a weapon as they would be, were not a priority. They could stay on the backburner for a bit while I figured out the best way to lock my own memories. The Vesani were the key.

Author's Note

Yes, I'm back. Yes, this does mean you can look forward to a full arc day by day. This is the longest arc I've written yet and will go on for the next two weeks.

Think of the Keystones like major feats. I did say I'd be "leveling" Andy based on significant milestones and I think DC counts.

There's a Korean dish called jun or jeon. It is a "pancake" that's more like an omelet. My favorite happens to be tuna and scallions. Eggs and tuna are great together. It's not the most popular dish even for Koreans, but I'll die on that hill.

I have a Kofi now, [
Ko-fi.com/fabledwebs]. Why not Patreon? I'll just repost what I wrote on my FF profile:

I don't deserve to be paid for writing fanficiton. You don't get any bonuses for giving me tips. If you want to commission me for reasons I can't understand, that's a separate conversation. Making you give me subscription money like I'm Netflix rubs me the wrong way. When you tip me, it's exactly that: A tip for a job well done.

I also feel that a subscription system pressures me into writing what you want or on a deadline, something I don't have a problem meeting, but you never know what the future may hold. Not my cup of tea.

So, tips: Appreciated, but not necessary.
 
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4.3 Ripples
Ripples 4.3

2000, August 21: Washington, DC, USA


Metalmaru, Hero's assistant and longtime colleague, had come to pick me up in his civilian guise. A subtly but fully armed tinker in an equally heavily armored car was far less likely to end up a little square in the papers after all. He picked me up and though mom showed the traditional hospitality, there was a coldness to her that hadn't been there before.

"How are you, Andy," he asked as I got into the passenger seat. Metalmaru, or Steven Kajiya out of costume, was a tall, lanky man with corded muscle in his early thirties. He had tan skin and sharp eyes. In costume, he had a trademark ponytail. Out of it, the tail was kept in a tight bun beneath a bowler hat.

"Pretty good. Ready to finally start doing something. They're giving me the rest of my stuff back, right?"

"Yeah, don't worry about that. A month's hiatus has to be good for something, right? We got them through the approval process. They've already been field tested anyway," he chuckled, then realized what he said. "Shit, I mean, darn, sorry, kid."

I waved him off. "Don't worry about it. And you can swear. It's not like I haven't heard it enough."

"Nah, gotta get in the habit. Big boss was talking about putting me in charge of a Wards team and I don't want to set a bad example, you know?"

"I guess. Early congrats then. You looking forward to it?"

"Ehh, sure. I mean, people say I'm a kid at heart, and I am, but maybe that's why I shouldn't be put in charge of kids."

"Maybe. Or maybe, you'll have an easier time relating to us young'uns than the other old timers."

"Hey, I'm thirty-one! I'm not old yet!"

"And I'm eight. That makes you almost four times my age."

"Che. What happened to respecting your elders," he grumbled.

"I'm American now. I'm embracing American values. Respect is earned, geezer," I teased.

We drove in amiable silence for several minutes before the older tinker broke it.

"Say, what're you looking forward to building?"

"You mean besides my costume?" I asked dryly. Hero may have gifted me a bodysuit, but it was just the foundation. I was expected to build up a kit of my own. I was honestly looking forward to it. "Maybe something to work against masters."

"Ah…"

"Yeah." As the second-most senior member of the District Protectorate and the head whenever Hero was off on one international crisis or other, he was one of the few fully briefed on my situation. I let the awkward silence drag on for a bit before asking a question of my own. "How about you? You've been a tinker for what? A decade? What's the coolest thing you've built?"

He embraced the subject change like a drowning man hanging onto a rope. "Not quite a decade. I was twenty-four when I triggered," he said with the ease of many years of separation. Most capes didn't refer to their triggers at all if they could help it. "You know what my specialization is, right?"

"Mmhm."

And it was a good one. Not phenomenal, but excellent for support. Metalmaru was a tinker who specialized in metal alloys, creating new ones to perfectly suit any function, often with seemingly supernatural properties. His power also came with an innate understanding of metallurgy and mineralogy. Because he wasn't the best at making weapons or armor to protect himself, he worked as Hero's assistant and had seen several tinkers graduate from the Wards already.

"Well if I had to pick one, it'd be my multiform shape-memory alloy. An SMA is a metal that bends itself back into shape when it's warped, effectively repairing itself. I tinkered up one that can 'remember' multiple shapes depending on the specific frequency of the electric current run through it."

"That's pretty cool."

"I know, right?"

"But doesn't something like that mean it's more fragile than regular reinforced steel? I think I read about SMAs somewhere. If they were as sturdy as regular steel, they'd be used for everything."

"Right," he grinned. "That's true, but I'm a tinker. My SMA is stronger than steel and can turn into my armor whenever I need it using my own bioelectricity."

I thought about what he said. "You stuck armor into your own body so it can react to your nervous system, maybe hormones. Threat response?"

"Yes and no. I didn't graft metal into my bones or something crazy. I'm a metals-tinker, not some super-surgeon. There's a signal amplifier in my skull though that'll activate like you said if I feel threatened. I had to trade a few favors with Zero Day and Armsmaster for that one."

"That's… That's brilliant."

"Thanks. It's not exactly power armor and I'm not much stronger with it, but it helps to have for sure. It had its problems, but we mostly worked out the kinks. Anyway, you'll be working on your own collaborations soon. Excited?"

"Don't senior tinkers decide the project? I figured Hero would just tell me who I'm working with and what I'm building for a while." It was what I expected of Cauldron if not Hero himself.

"Nah, boss-man isn't like that. You tell him what you want to work on and he'll try to have your back with Costa-Brown so long as you can show that you're working safe. You'll have to negotiate with the other tinkers on your own though."

"Dino eggs," I blurted out. "And sunstone."

"What?"

"Those are what I need. The PRT said they'd get me what I needed, so here it is."

"But… why?"

I reminded myself that Metalmaru didn't know much about my tinkering. "My tinkering focuses on making technology or enchanted objects that work with an internal energy source I call mana. I sometimes need unique or rare materials that have conceptual significance."

"Enchantments?"

"Yes, like magic. Seeing how no one seems to be able to explain how powers work, it's as good a name as any. Seriously, you've been briefed on Petricite, right?"

"Right, alright. I understand… I think. But dinosaur eggs?"

"Not specifically dinosaur eggs," I corrected myself. "I need fossilized lizard eggs from any species, but it does need to be a lizard… alongside sunstone, which is-"

"Plagioclase feldspar," he said. "I'm familiar. Mineralogy is my thing, remember? What do you think you can make with those? The sunstone will be easy to get, but the fossils might be harder. If a museum loans one out to you, I take it you're not going to be giving it back?"

"No, they won't be seeing it again. I want to make something that protects my mind from master effects."

"You can do that?"

"I wasn't lying in my debut," I said with a shrug. We were over the bridge now. I did my best to quell the butterflies in my stomach; open water still didn't agree with me. "I have an incredibly versatile repertoire now. It just might be the only honest thing I said in my debut."

"Huh… How does it work?"

"Ymelo," I said, "I think I'll call them Ymelos. A Ymelo is a set of two piece lockets that interlock to form perfect spheres. They can lock away and return memories."

"So if someone erases memories, you can just… reboot like a computer?"

"Yeah, that's a fair way of thinking about it. It'd also work for rapid shifts in emotion too. Like, if your past until now represents your baseline, the Ymelo would trigger automatically if you suddenly find yourself suicidal, reminding your brain that you don't normally think this way and therefore breaking the master effect."

"That's… You just might be the strangest tinker I've ever met."

"Didn't you make a superconductor metal that functions in absolute zero to work with Glace's freeze-ray? I'm not the only weird one."

"Yeah, but that at least has some grounding in scientific principles. You're saying a locket and some squiggly lines can make you immune to masters."

"Not immune, just highly resistant," I corrected. "Anyway, is it possible? Can you get me a fossilized egg?"

"For an anti-master effect? Definitely. It's going to need testing before it gets approved, but if it does clear… You'd be doing the world a big favor."

I thought of the space pigeon who had yet to descend. "I know, Steven. I know."

X

2000, August 21: Washington, DC, USA

I sat at my desk, my tools and creations before me. The Petricite dagger I'd named Sobriety (because fuck Camille) was set off to the side. I wanted to engrave runes into it, but that could come at a later date. The relic pistol was next to it; I wouldn't name it until I had its twin. The Dream Blossom Censer was placed against one wall, a staff of willow holding it up.

It was the "tech" that the PRT was most conflicted about. On one hand, it could end fights instantly. Unless the opponent wasn't human in the first place, like an endbringer, or kept their body in another dimension, like La Torcha, the smoke wasn't a resistible or avoidable attack.

On the other hand, it affected everyone, allies included. Knocking out emergency response personnel and civilians alongside gang members would not end well. At minimum, it was begging for a car crash and multiple fatalities. For a tool with no offensive application, the potential for collateral damage was immense. Nonetheless, it was in the end cleared for use by multiple thinkers and psychologists who examined the after effects on animals then volunteers.

On a not unrelated note, I had a bit of a following among the many insomniacs that made up the PRT administration and dream blossom petals were in high demand. The tea brewed from one granted luxuriously good sleep and rumors of "super-coffee" were making their rounds already.

The censer was the first of my new emergency loadout. Kid Win had his Alternator Cannon. I had a massive AOE sleep that could force an end to almost any conflict.

Call me motherfucking Mystogan.

The Blitzpack was cracked open in front of me, its innards scattered as I tried to improve on the design I'd made in captivity. With the Crips, I very carefully kept from building my best because I wasn't sure I would ever get them back, better that the Crips had half-assed tech in case I need to deal with them later. But here, I had no such reservations.

To start, I wanted to make it so the Blitzpack's prototype Hex Core could function without steam. Homage to my favorite yoink-bot or not, it was an unnecessary inconvenience. I instead made it so I could slot Mana Crystals directly into the back. From there, the raw mana would be directed to the transformers which would convert it into electricity, letting me activate its EMP function almost at will. I also planned to make an exterior that wasn't spherical; a skull shape made handling difficult. Once I replaced some of the internals with the high-quality materials provided by Metalmaru and Glace, I expected to decrease both its size and weight.

I leisurely sketched out a design for it. If I made the design hemispherical and reinforced the exterior a great deal, I could strap it to my arm like a buckler. It'd go well with the Black Tortoise image, too. I was short enough that I'd have to strap it to my biceps along with my forearm, but I'd grow into it.

I imagined myself with my full loadout. Some nebulous, vaguely Asian armor hiding enough tech to wage a war with the shield in my left hand and the pistol in my right. The dagger that was more like a shortsword to me was strapped to my left hip while the censer hung from my back like an oversized blue lamp. I looked ridiculous. Even in my own head I couldn't make that look good.

"I really need a way to quick-swap between items," I muttered.

"Yo, newbie, how's it going?" came Pyrotechnical's voice behind me.

That was my one minor gripe. We didn't have a separate lab, not normally. The national PRT HQ wasn't a building as much as it was an entire complex. It sat near the Justice and State Department buildings in Foggy Bottom. The lab was a separate building altogether and although there were smaller rooms dedicated to highly hazardous testing, such as those involving radioactive materials, the main lab was a wide open floorplan with different stations for different tinkers.

I didn't expect Hero's overt extroversion to grate on me in this way, but it proved to be a minor irritation.

Not that the floorplan was bad or anything. A series of incredibly advanced force fields and blast shutters could close down a station with ease and a set of teleporters courtesy of Warptek, a former DC tinker who'd been transferred out to Milwaukee of all places, made transporting materials and tools to the right tinker from the loading dock simple.

It honestly did promote cooperation and allowed for more senior tinkers to check up on and advise newcomers with ease. Best of all, all the "tools to make better tools" were already present in several communal stations. Any tinker could schedule some time on them and maintenance duties went to whoever could do the job, with some like Warptek being called in once or twice a year for upkeep.

Still, the introvert in me really wanted his own lab. I supposed that was what my basement would be.

Turning, I gave Pyro a wan smile. "Doing alright. I had a bunch of stuff I wanted from the PRT so I spent most of the morning filling out procurement forms. You?"

"Pretty good. I wanted to let you know that a hundred pounds of fossilized tree came into the loading dock. Should be he-"

He didn't even get to finish before the teleporter nearest to my station flashed, rolling out a palette of red, brown, and blue quartz-like crystals.

"Yup, there it is."

"Oh, lovely," I said, dry as the Sahara. "I can now spend the next few days turning it into Petricite."

"That's the power-null stuff, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Mind if I get a brick for myself?"

I rolled my eyes. "Ah, and now we're finally at the reason you're here. What, can't visit a junior just 'cause?"

"Hey, I'm just calling dibs before everyone else. Seriously, there are seven tinkers here excluding you. Do you know how rare that is? We don't typically work together, too many differences in specializations and egos, but when there's a new wonder-material to be had? All bets are off."

"Thanks for the warning. Metalmaru said something similar. I'll keep the blast doors shut."

"You might want to. Or at the very least, start thinking about what you want from other tinkers. You know, start bargaining."

"You said there are too many differences in specializations. How does that work then?"

"I mean, yeah. You probably won't be able to incorporate my thermal lance inside of that shield thing you got there, but you might be able to learn a few things from studying the blueprints, you know? Or in the case of Glace and Metalmaru, they might hold their superconductors hostage now that you have something worth trading for. And all else fails, you can take over the IT shift or something. Services are just as good as products; time is money after all."

"Wait, tinkers get put on IT? I don't actually know any programming languages."

He waved his hand a bit. "Ehh… Sometimes…? It really depends on the tinker, but that was just an example. Coding is really more Zero Day's gig. But even if you don't write code as a part of your power, you'd be amazed at how many people will just trust your word for it because 'you're a tinker so you must know tech.' You can repair microwaves, fridges, toasters… You know, that sort of thing. You'd be amazed at how often the other departments call us to fix their crap. Or want a super-microwave or something dumb.

"Lovely, looking forward to it. Fine, what can you offer me in exchange?"

"I have an old thermal lance? It's a bit obsolete for me, but it's close to the limit of what other tinkers can understand about my specialization. That's the only reason I haven't scrapped it yet actually; I even finished a writeup on it meant to guide newbies through my thought process."

"Maybe," I said noncommittally. It'd be nice to have, but that's all. I wasn't exactly lacking offensive options myself. Besides, my priority right now was the Ymelo. "I'm really focused on something else right now. Let's say you owe me, deal?"

"Deal."

X​

As Pyro predicted, a small horde of tinkers descended upon my station the moment they heard I had the materials for Petricite. Eventually, the PRT wanted me to machine out shackles, but for now, they wanted to see what other tinkers would make of the wonder-material first. I had to explain repeatedly that Petricite normally was about as rigid and uncooperative as marble and that I needed to transmute it into a metal alloy for it to be much use.

By the end of the impromptu negotiations, I had a standing invitation from Metalmaru to work on a stronger Petricite alloy with him. Seeing how I needed to make my costume and shield, I'd be taking him up on that sooner rather than later.

Glace agreed to take a look at my capacitors for the Blitzpack and multi-tool in exchange for five pounds of raw Petricite. She wanted to see if it was possible to extend its power nullifying properties through a beam the same way she made a laser endothermic. I wasn't holding my breath but I wished her luck anyway.

Pyro, Armsmaster, and Bluesong owed me favors for the same.

I was mildly surprised at seeing Armsmaster, though I shouldn't have been. He was Hero's apprentice after all. He apparently graduated from the Wards two years ago and was the youngest person here save me. He acted far more grown up than Pyrotechnical though.

Hero claimed "dictator privileges" and preordered several pounds for his own use, something about using it to disrupt higher dimensional wave patterns. To be fair, he already made me a bodysuit; he'd earned his share.

The only one who wasn't interested was the aforementioned Zero Day, who was busy designing a nationwide cybersecurity network on account of the shitshow revolving around yours truly. How effective it'd be, I had no idea. I was no expert, but I knew that human error had a way of bringing down even the greatest firewalls and there was no real way to eliminate human error from the equation for a project like this.

Truly, stupidity was the mightiest force in the universe.

Even while I waited for a goddamn dinosaur egg, I was still up to my nonexistent eyeballs with work.

Author's Note

A zero day vulnerability is a cybersecurity vulnerability for which the developers have no patch or do not know exists. White-hat hackers get paid lots of money to discover zero day vulnerabilities on behalf of their clients. That is the tinker's namesake.

The Helian Sunstones, not to be confused with Earth's sunstones, are materials made by the Vesani in the Blessed Isles using the Hallowed Mist, a byproduct of the Water of Life. They were a tribe of Vastaya capable of manipulating memories and drawing power from memories. These Sunstones were used to create golems.

Ymelo is the name of the Vesani craftsman who made Ahri's Sunstones. The orb she throws in game can stop glowing and will turn into a golden ball with flaming designs. These designs separate like puzzle pieces into two halves. As per
A Fair Trade, Ahri finds out that Ymelo made his tokens from the eggs of ancient lizards, while the Vesani made theirs from Sunstone.

This is where I'm getting the dinosaur egg + sunstone + Water of Life requirement for Andy's craftsmanship, along with Ymelo's namesake.
 
Ripples 4.2
It was a heady experience. Being an Iceborn didn't just mean an affinity for snow cones and poro snacks.
Hahaha. Poro snacks! That was so good. xD

Ripples 4.3
Ymelo," I said, "I think I'll call them Ymelos. A Ymelo is a set of two piece lockets that interlock to form perfect spheres. They can lock away and return memories."

"So if someone erases memories, you can just… reboot like a computer?"
So the person get identity erased by his past self?

But even if you don't write code as a part of your power, you'd be amazed at how many people will just trust your word for it because 'you're a tinker so you must know tech.'
How incredibly dangerous.

Thank you for the chapter. Happy to have you back!
 
Hm, speaking of emergency loadouts, he does lack protective gear for potential larger hits. Can he potentially make the Locket of the Solari for as an emergency measure? Or even Bard's horn? Because being able to essentially Clockblocker entire groups of people and even buildings sounds like the kind of thing that could both save lives and take down villains.
 
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I know he mentioned the vesani but I have to say, still not the item I expected him to go for for anti-master. After much thought the item I'd probably try and get is a Gem from Targon (which is coincidentally what I did in my own writing) and then go for the Bastion spell.

I know he's not quite a celestial yet but the Rakkor use gems all the damn time anyway, even the ones who haven't done a climb. Spellshield and +1/+1 would make a pretty good general use item in any case.

The only limiting factor there I guess would be spellshields being 'one and done' so Merc Treads still might be the best option assuming 'general tenacity' is a thing and they wouldn't just be boots with really good grip. I'm just leery of any defense he'll have to activate in an actual crisis situation, because as we've seen the master can just convince you not to do that.

Edit: He could probably also do some amazing things with stellacorn horn. In fact that might be the best angle.
 
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So the person get identity erased by his past self?
If you're going to argue that undoing a master effect by rebooting your brain counts as death, then the application of the master effect must also count as death, in which case rebooting is more like killing a murderer to resurrect their victim.
Also, if rebooting you brain counted as death sleep, concussions, and any form of induced unconsciousness would also count as death.
 
If you're going to argue that undoing a master effect by rebooting your brain counts as death, then the application of the master effect must also count as death, in which case rebooting is more like killing a murderer to resurrect their victim.
Also, if rebooting you brain counted as death sleep, concussions, and any form of induced unconsciousness would also count as death.
You misunderstood. From this text:
"Ymelo," I said, "I think I'll call them Ymelos. A Ymelo is a set of two piece lockets that interlock to form perfect spheres. They can lock away and return memories."

"So if someone erases memories, you can just… reboot like a computer?"

"Yeah, that's a fair way of thinking about it. It'd also work for rapid shifts in emotion too. Like, if your past until now represents your baseline, the Ymelo would trigger automatically if you suddenly find yourself suicidal, reminding your brain that you don't normally think this way and therefore breaking the master effect."
I took it as that he gets to save his memories in two pieces of lockets and then after he gets mastered. Maybe a day or two after he first took on that locket. Then he gets identity erased by his past self. So he has effectively lost all memories past his saved ones.
 
There's a Korean dish called jun or jeon. It is a "pancake" that's more like an omelet. My favorite happens to be tuna and scallions. Eggs and tuna are great together. It's not the most popular dish even for Koreans, but I'll die on that hill.
Americans call 'em fritters. Corn fritters. Apple fritters. Sometimes people call seafood fritter "cakes" instead, like crab cakes.
 
4.4 Ripples
Ripples 4.4

2000, August 21: Washington, DC, USA


I stood outside the Wards common room and took a deep breath. Wards introduction, round two.

I was in an interesting position. On one hand, I was a Ward under Jon, Brickhouse. On the other, I was now a part of Hero's lab, fondly nicknamed the Madhouse.

That meant that outside of patrols and PR events, I likely wouldn't be spending much time here. And judging by the looks on their faces as I walked in, they knew it. There wasn't any hostility, but they weren't exactly thrilled to see me either, just a whole lot of ambivalence.

"Hyunmu, welcome," Brickhouse said with a smile.

He stood in full uniform. Next to him was a green, bipedal deer with two pairs of antlers. The stag stood an impressive six-six without the antlers. With the antlers, he easily cleared seven-ten. It certainly explained why the doors were so wide. I wondered how his neck could support the weight then shrugged it off as Shard fuckery. I recognized this one as the only Case 53 in the District Wards, Verdeer.

Verdant. Deer.

Creativity was dead and we now danced in its ashes.

That was where my knowledge ended.

To my leader's other side stood a boy of about sixteen of middling height. The only thing noteworthy about him was that he wore long, white robes and hood that obscured everything. The robes had bright golden highlights and a closed eye on the hood, probably to avoid looking like a Klan symbol or some Halloween ghost costume.

The last Ward was a girl who stood an inch taller than the boy in white. She wore a sunshine-yellow bodysuit with crimson lightning streaks. By her costume alone, I pegged her as some sort of mover, though electrokinesis was also a possibility. The Flash inspiration couldn't have been more obvious if they just wrote out "Flash" on her chest.

"Hey," I greeted with a friendly smile. There was no reason to make enemies of them. "I'm Hyunmu, nice to meet you all."

"Didn't you have an accent?" Verdeer asked. His voice was an odd mix of deep rumbling and the honk-chirp of a deer. "Also, Verdeer."

"Only in public."

"Powell?"

"Powell."

In that single moment, a connection formed between us. We all shared a commiserating look at the PR head's expense.

"Anyway," Brickhouse coughed and tapped the boy in white, "this is Whiteout. He can white out cameras and recorders. He's not a tinker, but he gets called in for private meetings a whole lot."

"Sup, turtle-boy," Whiteout said with a smirk.

"Sup, toaster strudel."

"What'd you call me?"

"Don't talk smack if you can't take it."

Ignoring Whiteout's grumbling, Brickhouse continued. "And this lovely missy is Gold Rush. She's really fast and doesn't get tired. She also leaves behind a trail that slows down anyone who enters it."

"Hello, Hyunmu. I think the turtle theme is cool. Are you going to make a giant shield to carry around?"

"If I do, it'll have a ram's head on it," I said easily.

"Huh?"

"Don't worry, it makes perfect sense."

"Sure…"

"Right. Everyone, Hyunmu will be working with the other tinkers in the lab most of the time, but he'll also have his share of patrols."

That caused Gold Rush's eyes to light up. "You work with Hero? How is he? He's great, right?" She was in my personal space in the blink of an eye and the scary part was that I wasn't sure that was her power.

"Your fangirl is showing," Whiteout drawled.

"Shut up, toaster strudel."

"Sure, if you can come up with something original."

"Oh, fuck you."

He made two finger-guns and winked. "Is that an invitation, babe?"

"Ugh, you're such a pervert."

"You say 'pervert,' I say 'healthy teenager.'"

I sided up to my new leader. "Are they…"

"They're always like this, don't stress," he sighed. "And yes, Gold Rush really likes Hero. She even wanted a golden bodysuit like Hero's armor, but Powell said it'd look too showy."

"Not that I disagree, but… is sunshine-yellow any better?" I asked incredulously.

"It's marigold," she huffed.

I rolled my eyes. They… They didn't leave the best impression. I knew that I was being unfair to them, but I couldn't help but compare them to my old team. Brickhouse seemed to be a mix of Stingray and Ranchero, acting as both the older sibling and mediator to Whiteout and Gold Rush's squabbling. Gold Rush gave off the impression of someone who was a little naïve, though perhaps it was too early to judge. Bandit, but without the bubbly cheer. Whiteout was as obnoxious as Hat Trick, but without her versatility. Verdeer… was Verdeer.

I had no beef with the antler-horse.

"So, what else did Powell have you do for your public persona?" Verdeer asked. "The first thing he did was make me do a photoshoot for the National Zoo."

"Oof, sorry," I winced.

"Wasn't so bad. I really like animals."

"Oh, then I guess that's cool. Do animals… react to you differently?"

"What, 'cause I'm a Case 53?"

I nodded. "Yeah, sorry if that was rude."

"Nah, we're good. It's a legitimate question. And yeah. Herbivores don't see me as a threat because I look like them. Even had a stag try to square up to me during this Thanksgiving shoot I did."

"Wait, why?"

"Mating season," he laughed. "He thought I was trying to poach his girls. Funniest thing to happen to me at the zoo to this day."

I laughed with him. For a man with a stag's head, his smiles could be very expressive. "That's awesome. Bet the camera crew got a kick out of that. Did you butt heads?"

"Nah, my horns are harder than diamond. Like for real. Metalmaru confirmed it and everything; he has no idea how or what they're made of, but he can't scratch them with anything. If we butted heads, the zoo would be selling venison."

"Damn, that's pretty awesome. Wait… stags shed their antlers…"

"Sorry, he already checked. I don't shed so you can't have any to tinker with."

I clicked my tongue. "Tsk. Damn."

"So yeah, is the PR team making you do anything?"

"Just some suggestions I'm pretty sure aren't really suggestions. Mr. Powell is trying to get me to start a video series teaching either origami or tea ceremonies." I made no secret of my disapproval.

"Don't like those?"

"It's not that. I'm not even Japanese."

"Most people won't know the difference so they likely won't care."

"Yeah, that's what he said too, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it."

"Hey, at least that's not so bad," Gold Rush cut in. "When he found out I was from Georgia, he wanted me to appear on a cooking show, a 'southern belle cooking some classic peach cobbler.' It was horrible. I didn't even know how to cook. I still don't!"

The green stag smiled. "I thought you did alright. It tasted pretty good."

"Thanks, Verd, but you like to eat everything."

"True. Don't mean I'm lying."

"Come on, guys," Brickhouse said. "Powell's not that bad. He doesn't mean any harm."

"Maybe not," Whiteout said, "but he's super annoying."

"You don't even have to do anything," Gold Rush complained.

"I give tours at the International Spy Museum once a week. Do you have any idea how annoying that is?"

"That doesn't sound so bad," I said.

"I mean, the place is super cool, but once you've seen it all a dozen times it gets pretty dull, you know?"

"Fair enough. I think he's just throwing everything at me to see what I'd be willing to do."

"Yeah, that's Powell. Try to agree to as little as possible; he'll take a mile if you give him an inch."

"Noted. Thanks, Whiteout."

"Yeah. You're also a tinker so that'll work in your favor. It's unfair," he groused.

"Why? I mean, I think my power's awesome but-"

"It's not that," Gold Rush cut in with a pout. "It's because Hero runs the show here. I mean, Director Costa-Brown does her thing too, but as far as we capes go? Hero's the boss and he looks out for the tinkers a lot more than us normal capes."

"It's not like that," Brickhouse placated. "It's because tinkers all work together at the Madhouse so you see him more often. You'll get more chances to tell him how you're doing than the rest of us."

"Yeah, he's told Powell to fuck off before," Whiteout said. "I mean, not literally, but basically that."

"What happened there?"

"Nothing much. This was like three or four years ago when Pyrotechnical and Glace were still in the Virginia Wards. Glace was the leader back then and Powell wanted them to do a kissing scene for Valentine's Day," my leader added. "Hero put a stop to that real quick."

"They were underage so, duh."

"That and they don't actually like each other," Gold Rush said.

"They're friends," Verdeer rumbled.

"Yeah, but they don't like like each other."

I sighed. "That's good to know. I want to be in charge of my own image as much as possible. I still need to build my armor and that's one less thing to worry about."

"Right. That's the suit hero made, right?" she asked.

"Yes. All the tinkers on staff help each other where we can and this was his welcome gift to me."

Whiteout rolled his eyes. "Tinkers got it good here. So not fair."

Our yellow mover gave him the side-eye. "Jealous much?"

"Yes. I'm man enough to admit it. How much does a bodysuit like that cost?"

"Not a clue," I lied, no sense telling a bunch of kids they couldn't have a fancy new toy. "I owe him some unique mats I can make though so it's not like it was completely free."

"Whatever. Just don't do laundry on-base. Gold Rush's gonna sneak in and sniff it, watch."

"I wouldn't do that!"

While the two returned to bickering, Verdeer nodded to him and walked to the kitchen. "You want anything, Hyunmu?"

I looked around and sighed. "You know what? Yeah, sure. What's there to eat?"

X​

2000, August 22: Washington, DC, USA

I glanced down at the box in front of me then looked back up at Hero's smiling face. "Fast."

The man, the myth, the not-Legend, stood tall at six-five, though a few inches of that I knew came from the armored boots and helmet. He wore a friendly smile and golden armor over a blue, chain mesh material not dissimilar to my own suit. Surprisingly, his armor wasn't "power armor" in the traditional sense; it didn't grant him augmented strength or come with a mechanical exoskeleton. Instead, it was a collection of tastefully designed gadgets that came together to form a unified whole.

"Heh, yeah. Rebecca really wanted to see if the anti-master locket could work. She can pull some strings when she needs to. Even if mass production isn't on the table, having it handed out to a few important people would make the whole organization much safer."

I looked at the roughly eighty-four pounds of fossilized wood in one corner of my station. "So I noticed. Thank you for this, Hero," I said sincerely. The box contained a sunstone as large as two chicken eggs polished to a mirror shine and an oval stone with bumpy, scaled patterns of about the same size.

"Don't mention it. You're one of my people now. If you need anything, let me or Metalmaru know. And between you and me," he leaned forward as if to share some big secret, "Becky has a soft spot for young heroes like you. Don't be intimidated by her, you hear?"

"Got it." It was sometimes hard to remember that the man before me was a part of Cauldron. He was "the best of them" according to Alexandria, but that wasn't really a bar as much as it was a ditch in the ground. "Say, Hero?"

"Yes, Hyunmu?"

"Can you add holy water to the list of stuff I need?"

"Holy water?"

"Alchemy, remember? I mean, my power's expanded a lot, but things with conceptual importance apparently matter and I'm almost out of my own stock. You can find holy water in any Catholic church. They'll give it out for free so have some agents pick up a gallon each. I mean, chemically, it's just mild salt water, but the priestly blessing matters to my power for some reason."

"Huh. Weird. Sure, that's fine. Shouldn't be too hard to get some in bulk. Just don't go around telling everyone your locket can absolve people of their sins or anything."

"Deal." We shared a light chuckle at that.

As he walked away, I turned back to the Petricite I'd been working on. With both Hextech Flashtraption and Glacial Augment, the rate at which I could pull mana had increased a great deal. Before, my kidnapping, the PRT was under the impression that I could generate one every ten minutes or so. In reality, I could do so once every eight minutes and had used that slight difference in time to create a stockpile of Mana Crystals for myself.

My change into an Iceborn halved that time again. Fifteen Mana Crystals per hour didn't seem like a lot, but it meant seventy-five in a five hour meditation session. It was the kind of production rate I'd only dreamed of before. It wasn't long ago that forty-eight potions per week seemed like a reasonable quota.

And yet, I'd only grown busier. Demands on my time grew as fast as my capability.

My lab station was everything I'd ever needed back in Phoenix. Seeing how Rubedo was retired as an identity, I couldn't generate potions and distribute them publically. That just meant I needed to dehydrate them into pills, which meant an extra Mana Crystal to stabilize them during the process. A massive dehydrator to one side was used for the purpose.

Next to it was a smelter I could use to turn Petricite into its alloy. And next to that was a furnace alongside a lathe, drop hammer, and some other tools I could use to shape metal.

I was fortunate in that much of what I did could be automatic, leaving me time to work on my costume and Ymelo tokens. I took one look at the half-finished Blitzpack, more of a Blitzshield now, and shrugged. The Ymelos came first. My costume could wait.

Author's Note

You know, I'm quickly starting to realize that the problem with these tinker of fiction style fics is that there is so much potential. It's like a random person shoving a blank canvas in your face and demanding that you paint a picture. It's hard deciding what to make because there are so many options.


"What do you want for dinner?"

"Uh…"

Yeah, definitely one of those people.
 
Hm, actually considering the usual maintenance requirement for (actual) Tinkertech, if he's going to be creating more equipment and less consumables wouldn't it become rapidly evident for the PRT that he doesn't have the same "I need to upkeep" problem as other Tinkers?
 
Hm, actually considering the usual maintenance requirement for (actual) Tinkertech, if he's going to be creating more equipment and less consumables wouldn't it become rapidly evident for the PRT that he doesn't have the same "I need to upkeep" problem as other Tinkers?
Isn't this fanon? Technology needs maintenance, like cleaning and functionality checks (i.e cleaning a gun) but tinkertech doesn't just dissolve without constant attention from the tinker? It's shard bullshit to get it created, but once it's made it's not got a 2 day half life.
 
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Isn't this fanon? Technology needs maintenance, like cleaning and functionality checks (i.e cleaning a gun) but tinkertech doesn't just dissolve without constant attention from the tinker? It's shard bullshit to get it created, but once it's made it's not got a 2 day half life.
2 days? No.

And you're right in that Armsmaster's halberd isn't going to dissolve into dust if you separate it from him or anything.

But, a tinker's creation requires equally precise maintenance and may include factors that the tinker is not consciously aware of, such as temperature, humidity, or some fifth dimensional hijinks. It might not break right away, but all tech wears out eventually and repairing it becomes almost impossible without a tinker.

Edit: For example, Professor Haywire was around since pre-2000, but his tech was stored until Madison (2009) without issues, when Simurgh dragged the Travelers to Earth-Bet. So requiring minimal maintenance is a big deal, but it's not like tinkertech can't be stored or anything. It's tech, not spoiled milk.
 
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Hm, actually considering the usual maintenance requirement for (actual) Tinkertech, if he's going to be creating more equipment and less consumables wouldn't it become rapidly evident for the PRT that he doesn't have the same "I need to upkeep" problem as other Tinkers?
At least for Petricite he needed to discharge them out of their absorbed power. But you're right with his other equipment.

In that single moment, a connection formed between us. We all shared a commiserating look at the PR head's expense.
Fabulous. What if Powell's secondary strategy is precisely this. To form better unity between heroes that have needed to endure him.

"Sup, turtle-boy," Whiteout said with a smirk.

"Sup, toaster strudel."

"What'd you call me?"

"Don't talk smack if you can't take it."
These are gold moments.

"Whatever. Just don't do laundry on-base. Gold Rush's gonna sneak in and sniff it, watch."

"I wouldn't do that!"
Lol. These gold moments keep coming!

2000, August 22: Washington, DC, USA
"On September 15, 2000, Siberian bisected him in a confrontation between her and the core Protectorate. Eidolon attempted to heal Hero, but he ultimately died."
It isn't long now before Siberian makes an appearance.

My head canon is that the others went on to a deep end with Hero dead. It's said in the wiki that remainder three people went their own way. Depending on how it goes Triumvirate might not even form, heh, maybe it gets named Quadravirate.

I'm looking forward to any kind of politics and their shifts. I mean it must be something this entrenched in DC. It could be that I'm too bad at spotting them too.
 
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Isn't this fanon? Technology needs maintenance, like cleaning and functionality checks (i.e cleaning a gun) but tinkertech doesn't just dissolve without constant attention from the tinker? It's shard bullshit to get it created, but once it's made it's not got a 2 day half life.
Sort of. From what I recall of Word of Wildbow, Tinkertech and its lifespan is inversely proportional to how much the tech is actually based on physical laws and how much is based on shard effects.

Haywire's tech is a good example. It really is portal tech, and the parts of the thing actually do help in creating the portal. Thus, it's much less reliant on upkeep compared to, say, a coilgun made out of trash or a reactor that puts out way more energy than you put in. And when you consider the fragility of certain Tinkertech, exarcebated by reliance on rare materials and such, most Tinkers end up relying a lot on shard effects to work as opposed to applied technology.

But the thing is, with our protag, from an outside perspective almost none of his creations are based on science. To them, it's magic mumbo that makes it work, not anything technical. From that perspective, it would make more sense to them that his creations would lose power at some point.

But it won't, because Inspiration is literally a source of infinite energy and is not shardtech in the first place. And the more equipment he churns out that aren't just consumables, the more this will become clear to Cauldron.
 
Sort of. From what I recall of Word of Wildbow, Tinkertech and its lifespan is inversely proportional to how much the tech is actually based on physical laws and how much is based on shard effects.

Haywire's tech is a good example. It really is portal tech, and the parts of the thing actually do help in creating the portal. Thus, it's much less reliant on upkeep compared to, say, a coilgun made out of trash or a reactor that puts out way more energy than you put in. And when you consider the fragility of certain Tinkertech, exarcebated by reliance on rare materials and such, most Tinkers end up relying a lot on shard effects to work as opposed to applied technology.

But the thing is, with our protag, from an outside perspective almost none of his creations are based on science. To them, it's magic mumbo that makes it work, not anything technical. From that perspective, it would make more sense to them that his creations would lose power at some point.

But it won't, because Inspiration is literally a source of infinite energy and is not shardtech in the first place. And the more equipment he churns out that aren't just consumables, the more this will become clear to Cauldron.

Counterpoint, he goes to decent lengths to explain that his tinkering is Alchemy, not science. So in that way, it's more of a Shaker effect that a Tinker one.

Honestly, it's uncommon in the same way Dragon's abilities for understanding and repurposing other's tinkertetch are. I'm not sure when she made her debut...? But even if it's useful, and something notable, it's not gonna get anyone shouting "abomination!" And trying to dissect him or anything.
 
it's not gonna get anyone shouting "abomination!" And trying to dissect him or anything.
Never claimed any of that. Just saying, he already has enough sticking points about him that the more and more odd things begin to pile up about him, the more curious Cauldron will get. Already, he has several oddities that people have observed:
1) His maturity is beyond that of his age, yet despite having Triggered, it's only helped him mentally, not the reverse,
2) He supposedly underwent a Second Trigger, but Cauldron has to know that he hasn't, since they know that the circumstances for it weren't met and Contessa would've seen a shift in her Path,
3) Even with #2, he's been getting stronger over time, and not in the typical "Making A to make B to make C" of how Tinkers work,
4) He doesn't seem to follow standard TInker rules anyway, in the sense of material requirements and upkeep.

All of those combined already paint quite the suspicious picture. When the best possible explanation is something along the lines of "Maybe he's Eidolon-tier and all of those are a result of a truly stupendous power?" then you have to admit that it makes sense that they drew Rubedo so close to their inner circle to watch him, yet not so close as to reveal themselves.

And when shit hits the fan and he starts revealing knowledge that he should've not known, well he's certainly in trouble then.
 
4.5 Ripples
Ripples 4.5

2000, August 24: Washington, DC, USA


Two days. The Ymelo tokens took two days to complete even despite my expanded mana generation rate. The dinosaur egg and sunstone had to be alchemically merged into a Sunstone, not to be confused with the Earth-Bet variety, after which the painstaking process of engraving runes could begin.

Each rune needed to be infused with a steady stream of mana during the carving process, meaning I couldn't just pass off the task to an automated machine like I could with Petricite alloys or dehydrated potions. The runes needed to be precise too, a talent I was slowly developing ever since I started work with the Control Wards. The engraving process did go by a bit faster thanks to my new multi-tool, but it was still a laborious task.

But finally, I was done.

Before me sat two hemispheres, twin flames that shone a molten gold. The surface seemed to flicker with an inner flame, dancing as it caught the light. Each token was smaller than Ahri's, only about the size of half a tennis ball. I slowly put the two pieces together, the "tongues" of flame interlocking. Protrusions that seemingly had no purpose filled hidden cavities, two perfect reflections that formed a greater whole.

Then, a single blue spark danced at one end of the golden orb. That stray spark of mana traced the barely visible seams where the two tokens joined, leaving behind a line of blue flame. It circumnavigated the sphere and ignited every tiny rune carved onto the face until it returned where it started, a corona of fire encircling the orb.

The fire spread and covered the surface, molten gold replaced by radiant azure. It was beautiful to watch, utterly breathtaking. I gingerly picked up the blue orb and felt the warmth of mana flowing through me. This, this was a treasure of the Vesani, Ahri's inheritance. I had no ability to draw power from memories, nor could I charm or steal the memories of others. Only the most basic of its functions were available to me. In my lackluster hands, it was just a storage device, but that was enough.

Piece by piece, I sank my essence into the globe of light, every memory, my very identity. First went the memories of my past, thoughts of a distant world and a distant life. Then went the memories of this life. Dad. Mom. Leviathan. Phoenix. The Crips. Everything. Third went my knowledge of Worm, of Ward, of Wildbow who may as well be a prophet in my situation. Secrets that many would kill for were sealed away in my new Ymelo, locked away so I couldn't forget until the day there should be the need.

The last thoughts to be copied were not really memories; they were feelings. It was the feeling of helplessness I felt as I worked out how to escape from both a thinker and a master. It was the dismay I felt when Alexandria hugged me and I realized I'd been played more than a Bon Jovi song at an eighties high school reunion. It was the regret I felt as I apologized to my mother for being too weak, for making her cry… for leaving her alone. It was the sorrow that made me get on my knees before Agent Morrison's grave.

Most of all, it was determination, the same as I bid my friends goodbye and boarded that plane knowing I'd be at the heart of Cauldron's influence.

The globe pulsed in my hand when I finished and I knew that I would be the only one capable of drawing these memories out. This Ymelo was mine and mine alone; it would answer to no other. It was, in a very real way, a part of my identity now. There was a connection between it and me, a link that bound it to my soul and therefore to the World Rune. Inspiration would keep it inviolable, immutable save in its intended function. Not even I could change that now.

It would take in every memory of mine and, should I so choose, I could draw it outward again to trigger something similar to a system reboot. That function was also linked to an automatic trigger, the single most difficult runic matrix I'd carved thus far. If the Ymelo sensed a significant deviation between my present emotions and the historical standard, it would flood my brain with the same, forcing me to recall the reason I was the way I was. My resolve. My pain. My triumphs. My failures. My very identity was now my shield.

This was my answer to emotional masters: A love-me aura wouldn't work if I remembered exactly why I hated them with a passion. Suicidal depression wouldn't take hold if I forced myself to remember the people and things that drove me.

And seeing how it was linked to the Inspiration, my new floating buddy wouldn't be running out of juice anytime soon.

It wasn't perfect. For one, I had to have the Ymelo on my person. It could be made to hover and follow me around, but I'd have to carry it in my pocket while in my civilian guise. While I could call it, it could still be separated from me.

Second, it worked for any significant deviation in my mental state. It didn't necessarily have to come from a power. That meant that I was cutting off the bell curve on both ends. I could feel joy, but never the delirious kind, grief, but never the soul-crushing kind. Something like this would have required a month of review at least, which was why I didn't really ask for permission or clarify exactly what I was doing.

As it was, I was probably going to get chewed out by Hero. If nothing else, I was about to let a therapist retire early.

Lastly, it did nothing for masters with a focus on nervous control. Alec, currently Jean-Paul, could fuck me over just as easily as before.

Even so, this would have been enough to keep me from getting Pavlov'd by Tequila and that alone was a weight off my mind.

I gently set the glowing blue orb down onto my desk to the sound of applause. I didn't notice I'd drawn a crowd.

"That was quite the light show," Pyro said with a low whistle. "Does everything you make glow like that?

I looked back to see the entire lab facing me. "Are you all really this bored?" I asked, a tad miffed.

"Yes," the man I'd learned was Zero Day spoke flatly but I could spy a slight smirk of the lips. He wore a gray bodysuit like my own, but with a lab coat over it. The lab coat was decked out in green lines tracing a pattern reminiscent of computer chips. On his left breast was his logo, a big fat "Z" with a lock overlaid onto it.

"Aww, don't be like that, Hyunmu," our chief said, his smile annoyingly bright. "The first time a tinker completes a project in this lab is always a bit of an occasion. Besides, yours is pretty important. You called it the Ymelo, right?"

"Right. This lets me reboot my memories, but it's tied to me and I'm not giving it away."

"Why would you want to make something like that?" Pyro asked.

"Anti-master protocols," I said. I breathed deep. He didn't have the full story. "It's been a personal mission of mine to make myself immune to them." And thinkers, I didn't say.

"Right…"

"How?" Armsmaster asked, or really, demanded. He wasn't nearly as abrasive as he was in canon, jaded determination hadn't quite set in, but he was nonetheless a very direct person. I tried not to take it personally. "How were you able to link it to you?"

I shrugged. I had no idea how to explain the existence of the soul to someone like Armsmaster so I didn't even bother trying. Instead, I ignited my hand in a soft, blue glow. "My energy is very versatile. It's also why I can't really give a Ymelo away."

"So even if you made a few extra, no one else would be able to use them?"

"No… Maybe? Give me a sec to think."

They didn't know how to draw mana from their souls. They couldn't activate anything complicated, but… the core function of the Ymelo tokens weren't complex. All the fancy bells and whistles Ahri could do weren't relevant. Hell, most of the things I could do weren't relevant either.

The tokens just needed to work once, provide a dose of clarity and emotional void for the wearer. I considered it. I could scrap the linkage matrix. No reason to forge a permanent connection if they had no idea how to channel mana along that connection in the first place. It didn't need to hover either. No storing memories because no link existed, but… that would mean it'd need to be voluntarily activated rather than have an automatic trigger because no history exists to identify deviance in emotional patterns...

Theoretically, the runes carved onto the Control Wards that allowed a person to activate them without mana could be repurposed here. So long as I infused it with some of my own…

"Maybe," I began, "but it wouldn't' be easy. The carvings get more complicated because I'm effectively going to have to design a battery containing my internal energy so anyone else can activate it. It'd also only have enough juice for one shot, a few minutes of clarity to hopefully give someone a fighting chance against a master."

"I'm going to kick this up the chain to the chief director," Hero said. He called her by title so we knew it was serious. "This is big news if you can cleanse a master effect. She'll want to test that in detail."

"How? Will we have him mastered in a controlled environment?" Armsmaster asked. I stiffened at that. I'd kill him before I'd let them try, canon be damned.

"They'll probably get a low-level master to try their power on someone then have that volunteer use a Ymelo to cleanse himself. I'll have the chief director hold off on testing until Hyunmu makes another."

"Thank you," I said earnestly. "I appreciate it, boss."

"No problem, kid."

X​

The rest of the day was spent in cooperation with my fellow tinkers. I expected the next few weeks to look similar. Glace took a look at my capacitors for both the multi-tool and Blitzshield. They were hextech and so preferred to channel mana over standard electricity, but I learned a lot just by listening to her lectures on the way temperature could affect metals and their conductive properties. I considered asking her for more blueprints so I could learn more about my own Glacial Augment, but held off. No time. Just one more thing to make a note of for later.

After a few hours of that, I had dinner with Metalmaru at the PRT canteen. The food was surprisingly nice, perhaps because the operations director contracted out catering services to local restaurants rather than hire in-house cooks. It did mean we needed to keep our masks on, but that was a small price to pay in exchange for a solid meal.

Metalmaru wanted to talk about the incorporation of Petricite into a new super-metal, as promised. We sat in an out of the way table in the corner. Some sort of tech he set down on the table kept away eavesdroppers.

"Alright Hyunmu, tell me everything you know about the properties of Petricite."

"Excuse me?"

"You know. Malleability. Conductivity. Melting point. Boiling point. Density. All that good stuff."

I looked at him blankly. He'd grabbed himself a chicken sandwich but I'd settled for an instant cup of Shin ramen. Sue me, I was feeling nostalgic. "Umm… I don't know any of that."

"You… How?"

"It's technically a tree," I said. "Malleability is closer to marble than any metal. It's a poor conductor, as are all trees. It… burns into charcoal if the fire is hot enough, but probably has a higher combustion point than something like… the melting point of copper?"

"Are you telling me or asking me?"

"Telling you? Telling you. Yeah. Boiling point is irrelevant. It's denser than water, despite being plant matter, so will sink under normal circumstances. It's lighter than most metals though."

"Don't you have any specifics?"

I shook my head. "No? I mean… It's a material that absorbs the energy I call mana, an energy that is released in small quantities by parahumans as they use their powers. This disrupts a parahuman's power. I thought this was more important."

He put his head in his hands. "Oh, we have so much work to do."

"Fine," I huffed. "What did you have in mind?"

"Okay, so there is this thing called graphene and it's got the highest tensile strength in the known universe."

"I know what graphene is. Single sheet of carbon molecules. What's that got to do with metals?"

"Everything," he said brightly, eager to talk about his favorite subject. "So normally, metals bond to create something called an 'electron sea.' But, when I tinker, I can blend the two electron seas of two separate metals in a way that forms magnetic links between protons and electrons."

"So you build alloys like Legos?"

"Not quite, but yeah, that's a good description. It means I can position atoms and molecules to form the best structure chemically possible, which in most cases looks remarkably like graphene."

"I see… And Petricite, being an unknown material…"

"Needs testing!" he exclaimed. "We're going to be working together to discover every last property of the material. And then, we're going to figure out what its atomic structure is so I can incorporate it into a new alloy."

"Sounds good," I said. Metalmaru was a surprisingly methodical man. I wouldn't have expected that from the motor-mouth. "But doesn't the 'perfect' alloy depend on what you're trying to use it for? It's not like every super-metal is equally conductive or durable, right?"

"Right, and that gets to the next question: What do you want? I mean, how do you think Petricite can be best used?"

"Containment for prisoners," I ticked off on my fingers, "maybe body armor for troopers if we can get enough of it, something to relieve thinker headaches in a consumable form, but that's something I'll have to figure out on my own. Really, what I was hoping for from you was a lightweight, protective material I could use to make my armor out of. Oh, and coating for my shield. If I could do that, I should be able to negate most powers, or at least dampen them enough to shrug them off without too much consequence."

"Is there any reason heroes can't use the same armor?"

"Tinkers can," I agreed, "but a blaster like Legend would find that Petricite armor interferes with their own power."

"Yeah, fair enough." He polished off the last of his fries and stood. "Alright, let's get to work. We won't be able to do too much today, but we can get started on the basic physical properties. Man, I can't believe you never recorded this."

"I had other things on my mind, sue me."

Author's Note

I'm pulling shit out of my ass so much now. The Ymelo tokens are mysterious even by Runeterra standards. Literally no one, not even Ahri herself, knows exactly what they can do in full because as far as anyone knows Ymelo is dead. I'm pulling shit out of my ass based on what Ahri can do, but without her drain and charm abilities. The summoner spell Cleanse doesn't actually have anything to do with Ahri, but I figured the function of the Ymelo tokens as I described them was close enough that I could get away with a bastardized version of it.

It's funny that narratively, it's called Inspiration. Andy's branching out. From a meta-narrative perspective, it's called an asspull.
 
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