This is story number 2 from my rotted decaying mind. Hope you enjoy.
Its the story of a person...
Its the story of a person...
Lets tone that back a bit(Worm/Fallout) SI
- Thread starter Heavy READER
- Start date
- Created
- Status
- Ongoing
- Watchers
- 351
- Recent readers
- 0
- Threadmarks
- 14
-
Statistics (11 threadmarks, 44k words)
User Total Heavy READER 11 -
Loading…
-
Loading…
Heavy READER
Book Devourer/Speed Reader
- Location
- Fitchburg, MA
This is story number 2 from my rotted decaying mind. Hope you enjoy.
Its the story of a person flung from our world into Worm and received the Fallout Tinker shard, the struggle to make none deadly weapons ensues.
Its the story of a person flung from our world into Worm and received the Fallout Tinker shard, the struggle to make none deadly weapons ensues.
Last edited:
Omake: Time Hive 5.1
Heavy READER
Book Devourer/Speed Reader
- Location
- Fitchburg, MA
Omake (Worm/Fallout)
(From Hive 5.1)
[I do not own Worm or Fallout]
Coil had just sat down at his table in Somers Rock to begin the conversation about what to do about the ABB and Bakuta's bombing spree. He was late cause of some information he has been receiving lately about a new Tinker in town. Coil dipped his head in a nod and steepled his fingers. When he spoke, his voice was smooth, "That should be everyone. Seems Lung won't be coming, though I doubt any of us are surprised, given the subject of tonight's discu-." He was interrupted by the the door to the pub being slammed open. Everyone turned to the door, some faster than others.
What they saw was a someone in a set of obvious Tinker made power armor holding a very advanced Tinker rifle. The eyes glowed red, the shoulders were broad, the hands were big enough to fit a round the head of the average person. The armor stood at around 7 and a half feet tall and was a light swallowing black.
Everyone tensed waiting for a signal as the armored person scanned the room momentarily resting on the Undersiders, The Travelers, the Empire 88, Faultlines crew and Coil in order. "I seem to have interrupted something important, carry on with your conversation about the ABB, I will listen". The voice of the new comer (Liberty Prime) startled many out of there shock, it was deep and most likely synthesized. The armored person moved toward one of the out of the way walls and leaning up against it after gently closing the door behind them.
(Voice of liberty Prime !!Warning loud!! Fallout 3 : Liberty Prime - Quotes and Sounds - YouTube )
(From Hive 5.1)
[I do not own Worm or Fallout]
Coil had just sat down at his table in Somers Rock to begin the conversation about what to do about the ABB and Bakuta's bombing spree. He was late cause of some information he has been receiving lately about a new Tinker in town. Coil dipped his head in a nod and steepled his fingers. When he spoke, his voice was smooth, "That should be everyone. Seems Lung won't be coming, though I doubt any of us are surprised, given the subject of tonight's discu-." He was interrupted by the the door to the pub being slammed open. Everyone turned to the door, some faster than others.
What they saw was a someone in a set of obvious Tinker made power armor holding a very advanced Tinker rifle. The eyes glowed red, the shoulders were broad, the hands were big enough to fit a round the head of the average person. The armor stood at around 7 and a half feet tall and was a light swallowing black.
Everyone tensed waiting for a signal as the armored person scanned the room momentarily resting on the Undersiders, The Travelers, the Empire 88, Faultlines crew and Coil in order. "I seem to have interrupted something important, carry on with your conversation about the ABB, I will listen". The voice of the new comer (Liberty Prime) startled many out of there shock, it was deep and most likely synthesized. The armored person moved toward one of the out of the way walls and leaning up against it after gently closing the door behind them.
(Voice of liberty Prime !!Warning loud!! Fallout 3 : Liberty Prime - Quotes and Sounds - YouTube )
Chapter 1: Shit happens in shit town
Heavy READER
Book Devourer/Speed Reader
- Location
- Fitchburg, MA
Chapter 1.1: Shit happens in shit town
You would think something like this could not happen to someone like me. Me, little ol me, some 9 to 5 clock in clock out shmo. Who's got to think about what he says, I mean really think about it otherwise he ends up sounding… a little off. The guy who is a Sociopath with ADHD… not a good combo. I'll let you think on that.
There I was sitting at home at around 1am, it's raining out, the trees are waving in the high winds, water slamming into the windows. I'm in my swivel chair just thinking a thousand things at once while creaking it back. Then *CRACK* I sit up, I hear the protesting of wood bearing too much weight outside getting louder extremely fast. Rush to the nearby window to see the large tree next to my house accelerating towards me. The last thoughts before it hits are nothing special. Just simply "That was a nice chair, poor cats, it's an oak".
I sit up suddenly mumbling "Stupid dream, I'm gonna stab Morpheus…" Trailing off because I'm not in my bed it's not as comfy. Ok wide awake, take stock, not on the floor, in an alley. Tall buildings on three sides, alley's about 3 feet wide and 16 feet deep, I'm 12 feet in, a shaded spot. Heads pounding, broken glass is in my hair, big deep scrape on the back of my head. Ok I was hit over the head with something that is made of brown glass then dragged into an alley makes sense… WHY AM I IN AN ALLEY! I live in a rural area and hate going into the city.
Stomping footsteps breaks me out of my funk. I mumble to myself quietly "Hng the sun is setting". I start to stagger to my feet as the footsteps get closer shaking the broken glass out of my scraggly hair. The glass makes small tapping noises as it hits the concrete beneath me. My pounding head distracts me long enough not to notice the footstep had stopped a few feet from the alley entrance.
"Hey asshole you're not welcome in these parts." The voice goes right into my brain like a dagger and wince in pain. I look up sluggishly slow to meet the face of someone of asian descent… and all his buddies. He's smiling, not the happy kind but the 'I wonder if he'll look good in a coffin' kind. Some of the group are carrying bats and pipes and the such. They're blocking the alley entrance.
I stand there swaying. Mr baseball bat bat yells "You dumb or just high, don't matter I'm gonna beat your face in". I shoot back almost stumbling over my words "I like rice too, how bout you". His expression changed instantly from a feral grin to a snarl. He glanced to the guy on his right. They both nod and start to advance towards me. I mumble "Fist facial diplomacy". Mr pipe swings at my face while I'm distracted by my inner thoughts, I lash out and catch it with my right hand yank it to my left, and elbow him under the chin in one motion. The loud click of his teeth smashing together marks his unconsciousness as he slides to the ground.
Mr bat takes offense to that and swings his bludgeon at my left side right under my ribcage. Here I would like and say I took it like a champ and smashed his face in. But no I stumbled to the right into the wall then slide down onto my knees, punched Mr bat in the side of the knee. As he stumbles he swings the bat at my head and then darkness.
I wake to the sound of a continuous sweet beep of a heart monitor. Still alive , the pain means you are still alive… Yes...Ow… darkness, and in my mind nuclear fire and fusion.
==Tick Tick Tick==
I awake to the steady beeping of the heart monitor once again. Glancing to the side I take in the sight of the dull green line as it jumps in time with my heart. *Beep* I continue to stare, *Beep* my hands itch to fiddle with something. *Beep* The door to my room opens to admit a nurse who grabs my chart. "So Mr John Doe, how are you feeling." I move my numb body a little and wince, sucking in a breath in pain which just hurts more. "Not well at all. How bad is it." She scans the chart in her hand, "Considering what you've been through pretty good, three fractured ribs, two broken fingers, and some minor swelling of your Cerebellum from a concussion, how is your motor control?"
I blinked and tried to wiggle my toes, not much movement. I wiggle my non-broken fingers, there slow and numb feeling. I look up at the nurse, "Am I on any numbing painkillers." Her eyes flick to me then back to the chart, "Yes but they should have worn off hours ago." I lean forward and fumble with the sheet over my legs in rising panic, "I can't really move my toes and my fingers are stiff, I feel stiff." My arm feels like it's fighting me as I pull on the sheets. The nurse pulls the sheet to the side for me and I see my bandaged ribs. Bruises cover my left side, ignoring the bruises I focus on my toes. They feel stiff and they move very slowly and painfully. The nurse frowns and writes something down on the chart while mumbling. "Great, brain damage."
My mind locked onto the word brain damage, "What, how bad." She looks at me laying back down slower than I would like. "Make a fist with your unbroken hand." I comply and make a fist. The fingers shaking as they contracted down. "Now open your hand." I do so with the same speed. She marks another thing down and frowns, "I'll get a doctor to you, I don't think it's life ending but you might be stiff for the rest of your life." She puts the chart back and walks out without look back. I just lay there in stiff pain, trying to move my limbs at normal speed. The silence calls my attention back to the heart monitor. *Beep* My hands urge to tear it apart. *Beep* To see how it works. *Beep* 'I could build a better less annoying one...' Where did that idea come from?
An hour or so later, the clock was broken on the wall, the nurse came back with a doctor. He began to talk without introduction, "Mr John Doe, we have some questions, first of all your name and age." I give them my name and say I'm twenty. The nurse begins to busy herself about the room and the doctors frowns. "I'll give you a preliminary diagnosis of Spasticity. It means that your nerves aren't responding to your brain's signals because your brain is sending the wrong signals." I want to deny it, rage at the world, but that wouldn't help so I stay outwardly calm. "Are there any treatments?" The doctor glances up at my face from the chart, "No, none available here. But lets first see if you can at least walk." The nurse comes over and helps me as I slip to hanging my legs over the edge of the bed. "I want to try on my own first."
I take a deep breath and slowly slide off the bed and touch the cold floor with my bare feet. I try to straighten my legs from my sitting position and pain lances up them. The nurse and doctor see my wince, "Try to take it slow, don't push yourself to fast." I nod and push off the bed with my stiff arms and I'm standing. A smile graces my lips for just a second, then I unbalance and try to correct. A lance of pain shoots through my leg and I fall back on to the bed. The doctor looks at me with pity and my vision starts to go blurry and I feel the nurse draping the blanket back over my legs. "I'll leave you alone to process." The two blurry shapes leave the room and shut the door behind them. 'Why, my legs are still there, but they refuse to move to my wims.'
==Tick Tick Tick==
Some time later when the sun has set and I lay staring at the ceiling, my rooms door opens and a short person enters the room. I angle my head to look right at the intruder. Its a young girl about high school age wearing a white robe with huge bags under her eyes. She blearily blinks at me as if surprised this room is occupied. With a sigh and slumped shoulders she walks over next to my bed. "Do I have your permission to heal you?" What did she think she was a white mage or something, Hah magic is fake and my legs are fucked. I just stared back at her with dead eyes. With a huff she took my hand from my lap and froze. "I'm sorry I can't do brains, I'll- I'll just go." 'What that sounded familiar, like I had heard it somewhere… Or read it!' She let go and strode to the door. With a dry throat I called out. "Could you get me a cup of water before you go." She paused and looked at me before she walked over to the sink and filled a plastic cup with water and handed it to me. I took a sip and as she opened the door to leave and I spoke up more clearly. "Thank you for the water, and get some sleep, you look more dead than I." Without a word Panacea left and shut the door behind herself. My forced smile fell from my face, "Worm… Shit."
The next day I was discharged from the hospital, all of my life threatening injuries were healed by Panacea during her visit and somehow I existed in the system already. My insurance covered me and my new wheelchair, and I had an apartment a few blocks from the Medhall headquarters. This was all kinds of shady, but squinting over the information that I had found in my wallet, I had just moved to Brockton Bay a few days ago. I even had a grocery list and town map in my pocket. I sighed and looked up at the overcast sky, might as well wheel myself "Home" before it rains. I set my bag of items and wallet into my lap and stiffly slowly began to roll myself down the sidewalk, following road signs and just focusing on not rolling into the street.
Before I made it halfway the sky opened up and began its downpour. My already miserable day kept getting worse. People cleared the streets and rushed about, umbrellas opened and cars slowed, and I was soaked in minutes. My map thankfully turned to mush when I was just a street over so I could remember where I had to stop. I rolled to stop in front of the complex and eyed the doors. Pull doors, not much of an obstacle but I was in a wheelchair. Narrowing my eyes I rolled up next to the door and locked the wheels. With grit teeth my legs flexed and pushed me up three inches before I fell with a gasp back down sitting. By this point the streets were deserted and I was all alone outside in the rain. Removing the obstacle would be easy all I would need was a tiny bit of radioactive material some capacitors and parts from my wheelchair and I could melt the hinges off the door… "What?"
==Tick Tick Tick==
I struggle with my thoughts on how I knew how to turn a few parts of my wheelchair, some radioactive material and common capacitors into short lived plasma torch that can melt steel. Motion behind the glass doors make me look up to see a blond haired woman hurriedly opening the door for me. "Are you ok? Let me help you inside." As she goes around the back of my chair I unlock the wheels and let her push me inside out of the rain. As I'm pushed into the warmth I speak up over the sound of wet wheels over polished stone. "I'm ok just cold, and I just moved here a day ago." She stops pushing me and grabs some towels by the door and hands them to me. "Dry yourself off you'll get a cold."
I smile and thank her but get interrupted as I'm about to ask her name. An identical woman comes trotting down the stairs, "Nessa what's taking you so- Oh who's this?" I wrap the towel around my shoulders, "Oh uh hi I'm Ryan, Nessa was helping me get out of the rain." The currently unnamed woman eyes me with suspicion. "And what are you doing here?" I looked down to my plastic bag of possessions and reach inside retrieving my wallet and apartment key. "I just moved to Brockton and this is my new home I guess." I look at the number on my key closely, it did not seem my glasses made the transition. "Room uh, 1212." Nessa walked away to the post boxes and the still unnamed woman who I guessed was Nessa sister began to grill me.
What did I do, "I'm an small electronics systems engineer but mainly an automated machine designer." Where I'm from, "A town a little northwest of Boston." Why I was here, "I thought this place could use someone of my talents, and I always wanted to live closer to the sea." Nessa comes over and sighs, "Jess, leave the man alone he probably wants to get settled in his room and warm up and dry off, and your standing in front of the elevator." The now named Jess grumbled and went up the stairs, her sister following sorting envelopes, "Since your new to Brocton steer clear of the docks, there infested with filth." I smiled and waved, "Thank you." When the two blond blurs turned the staircase corner and passed out of sight I almost called out that they forgot the towel I still had over my shoulders. Sighing and shaking my head I rolled over to the elevator and pushed the button and rolled in.
Jerkily spinning around in my chair I fumbled for the twelfth floor button and accidently pressed the eighth and eleventh. The doors closed with a ding and I hummed along with the music, trying to make it all go away. The door open on floor eight and I pressed the door close button waiting for it to hurry up. Eleventh floor opened up and I repeatedly pressed door close. Floor twelve, I rolled out into a carpeted hallway, wheels pressing down into the soft floor cover with a soft sound. I rolled up to the door closests to the elevador to check the door number, room 1201 ok and across the hallway, room 1202. Oh so mine should be six doors down on the right. The carpeting muffled my movements but also gave added struggle to me rolling down the hallway, the carpeting did nothing to muffle my grunts of pain.
Making it to the door I slipped the key into the lock and turned it with a click. Taking my key I rolled inside and shut the door behind me with a hard shove. I turned my chair to take in my new home. A short hallway covered in red carpeting, rolling into the next room I saw the living area with hardwood floors, and an archway with an open tiled kitchen plus three doors. I want a shower and to sleep. Rolling past the giant flat screen and new couch I stopped at the first door, closet with cleaning supplies, next. A bedroom with king sized bed and writing desk, another giant flat screen on top of an ancient looking wooden bureau. Ok next, the next room was a full bath rushing in I banged my leg into the tub's edge before I stopped. How am I going to get in, what about getting back out, I could lock the chair next to the tub and kind of just fall out to the side.
But how to get back out, I'm having trouble moving my arms too, I don't know if they can support me. With a sigh I settle for struggling out of my clothes and cleaning off with a washcloth before draping myself with fluffy towels. Rolling back to the bedroom Iock the chair next to the slightly higher than my seat bed. With a growl I lift first my right leg, then left leg onto the soft blankets using my arms and keeping my legs from falling back down by tensing them. Then with a great heave I almost toss myself onto the softness. Within minutes I'm out, and just out of sight sits a handwritten letter on parchment sitting atop the bedside table. And on the front it had a wax seal with the initials O.F.G. stamped into it.
==Tick Tick Tick==
Pale shafts of sunlight filter through half drawn window blinds. The light shines directly on my face, groaning I try to roll over and find myself in sudden pain. Eyes shooting open I thrash from the pain and flail over onto my side. Panting from the sudden awakening I look around with just my eyes. A white painted wall, an open door that I can see a couch through, soft sheets I'm laying atop of. Oh right, Brockton Bay… Worm. My head turns a little bit to see the stationary chair next to my new bed. With narrowed eyes I struggle to sit on the beds edge, legs hanging over. Determination fills me and I push off and stand… and take a stiff step… and another… and my legs give out and I fall sideways, my arm shoots out and grabs my wheelchairs armrest, and I angle my fall to land awkwardly into my wheelchair.
Straightening myself out I unlock the wheels on my chair and are just about to spin in place when I catch sight of an off white envelope sealed with red wax. Pushing off I bump into the bedside table and snatch up the fold parchment. Pressed into the wax holding it closed are three letters O.F.G. all inside a twelve pointed star. If this is a joke I'm gonna be mad, if its a trap I'm already fucked. I slowly opened the letter careful not to tear the thick paper and read.
The letter
Dear, Ryan, the Useless me
You might be wondering what's going on, you most likely have found out you are in Brockton Bay, the city of Worm. You have probably found the map stuffed in your wallet along with some notes to help you find this apartment. You want me to get on with the letter so I'll lay it all out for you, I thought that no version of me should have to suffer a boring existence. So I decided to spice things up a bit. You might have been getting flashes of ideas, thoughts that don't make sense. But that's ok, cause I didn't just drop you in superpowered hell without a little edge of your own. In most simple terms I took the design of every object, technology and pseudoscience, and things frankly magic from a certain world and made a Tinker shard. It is unbound and loyal to only me so no others will gain insight from your creations. And why you ask, well I have grown bored. So live, fight, grow, and I might just show up to save you when the Golden end comes.
Your best hope,
Oberas Furiosus Gier
Planeswalker, Great One, R.O.B.
What… Really, I was kidnapped by an alternate version of myself and dropped into Worm… All for some kicks, for chuckles. That's… That actually makes sense in a twisted sort of way. The bottom of the letter begins to shimmer and I behold as words written themselves out before my eyes as if written by someone right now.
P.S. Here's a hint, "Obstruction detected. Composition: titanium alloy supplemented by photonic resonance barrier. Probability of mission hindrance: zero percent."
Ideas flashed through my mind, how to make a forcefield wall that fries anyone who touches it in a second, a giant robot that stomps through the streets vaporizing fleeing soldiers in seconds. More and more click together, a blocky rifle that fires beams of high intensity infrared light so hot it scorches the air. Weapons, war machines, technology. I wince and try to think of something other than tech and my mind latches onto one word, unbound. Unbound energy, unbound potential, blood sacrifice, a complicated curve blade and a few deaths to get information, ideas, power, and lastly to call distant beings. My brain trembled from the info I was given and I forced to think on helpful things. Protection, solid armor, forcefield projectors, rituals I could tap for safety. I latched onto the armor idea, green armor that could protect from gunfire like hail, but it was heavy and I could barely walk supporting myself.
Power armor, a frame of steel and aluminum with almost foot thick masses of steel bolted over it protect from high explosive impacts, fire, radiation, drowning, inbuilt oxygen supply. Powered legs would allow for the wearer, more of a pilot, to walk while carrying over itself twice over. The complete product would weigh half a ton, but I would be safe from almost everything short of a close range nuke. My head began to pound and I dropped the letter to hold my head. I watched as the letter flutter to the floor and it came to a rest, a second later a deep hum sounded out and the letter was sucked inwards into a tiny black spot above the letter with the sound of rushing air, and it was gone the only proof it existed was the waving window blinds in the sudden wind. I scrambled for my chairs wheels and rolled myself back to the bathroom where I dropped my bag of stuff, I needed to sketch down my power armor plans, I wanted to walk again.
You would think something like this could not happen to someone like me. Me, little ol me, some 9 to 5 clock in clock out shmo. Who's got to think about what he says, I mean really think about it otherwise he ends up sounding… a little off. The guy who is a Sociopath with ADHD… not a good combo. I'll let you think on that.
There I was sitting at home at around 1am, it's raining out, the trees are waving in the high winds, water slamming into the windows. I'm in my swivel chair just thinking a thousand things at once while creaking it back. Then *CRACK* I sit up, I hear the protesting of wood bearing too much weight outside getting louder extremely fast. Rush to the nearby window to see the large tree next to my house accelerating towards me. The last thoughts before it hits are nothing special. Just simply "That was a nice chair, poor cats, it's an oak".
I sit up suddenly mumbling "Stupid dream, I'm gonna stab Morpheus…" Trailing off because I'm not in my bed it's not as comfy. Ok wide awake, take stock, not on the floor, in an alley. Tall buildings on three sides, alley's about 3 feet wide and 16 feet deep, I'm 12 feet in, a shaded spot. Heads pounding, broken glass is in my hair, big deep scrape on the back of my head. Ok I was hit over the head with something that is made of brown glass then dragged into an alley makes sense… WHY AM I IN AN ALLEY! I live in a rural area and hate going into the city.
Stomping footsteps breaks me out of my funk. I mumble to myself quietly "Hng the sun is setting". I start to stagger to my feet as the footsteps get closer shaking the broken glass out of my scraggly hair. The glass makes small tapping noises as it hits the concrete beneath me. My pounding head distracts me long enough not to notice the footstep had stopped a few feet from the alley entrance.
"Hey asshole you're not welcome in these parts." The voice goes right into my brain like a dagger and wince in pain. I look up sluggishly slow to meet the face of someone of asian descent… and all his buddies. He's smiling, not the happy kind but the 'I wonder if he'll look good in a coffin' kind. Some of the group are carrying bats and pipes and the such. They're blocking the alley entrance.
I stand there swaying. Mr baseball bat bat yells "You dumb or just high, don't matter I'm gonna beat your face in". I shoot back almost stumbling over my words "I like rice too, how bout you". His expression changed instantly from a feral grin to a snarl. He glanced to the guy on his right. They both nod and start to advance towards me. I mumble "Fist facial diplomacy". Mr pipe swings at my face while I'm distracted by my inner thoughts, I lash out and catch it with my right hand yank it to my left, and elbow him under the chin in one motion. The loud click of his teeth smashing together marks his unconsciousness as he slides to the ground.
Mr bat takes offense to that and swings his bludgeon at my left side right under my ribcage. Here I would like and say I took it like a champ and smashed his face in. But no I stumbled to the right into the wall then slide down onto my knees, punched Mr bat in the side of the knee. As he stumbles he swings the bat at my head and then darkness.
I wake to the sound of a continuous sweet beep of a heart monitor. Still alive , the pain means you are still alive… Yes...Ow… darkness, and in my mind nuclear fire and fusion.
==Tick Tick Tick==
I awake to the steady beeping of the heart monitor once again. Glancing to the side I take in the sight of the dull green line as it jumps in time with my heart. *Beep* I continue to stare, *Beep* my hands itch to fiddle with something. *Beep* The door to my room opens to admit a nurse who grabs my chart. "So Mr John Doe, how are you feeling." I move my numb body a little and wince, sucking in a breath in pain which just hurts more. "Not well at all. How bad is it." She scans the chart in her hand, "Considering what you've been through pretty good, three fractured ribs, two broken fingers, and some minor swelling of your Cerebellum from a concussion, how is your motor control?"
I blinked and tried to wiggle my toes, not much movement. I wiggle my non-broken fingers, there slow and numb feeling. I look up at the nurse, "Am I on any numbing painkillers." Her eyes flick to me then back to the chart, "Yes but they should have worn off hours ago." I lean forward and fumble with the sheet over my legs in rising panic, "I can't really move my toes and my fingers are stiff, I feel stiff." My arm feels like it's fighting me as I pull on the sheets. The nurse pulls the sheet to the side for me and I see my bandaged ribs. Bruises cover my left side, ignoring the bruises I focus on my toes. They feel stiff and they move very slowly and painfully. The nurse frowns and writes something down on the chart while mumbling. "Great, brain damage."
My mind locked onto the word brain damage, "What, how bad." She looks at me laying back down slower than I would like. "Make a fist with your unbroken hand." I comply and make a fist. The fingers shaking as they contracted down. "Now open your hand." I do so with the same speed. She marks another thing down and frowns, "I'll get a doctor to you, I don't think it's life ending but you might be stiff for the rest of your life." She puts the chart back and walks out without look back. I just lay there in stiff pain, trying to move my limbs at normal speed. The silence calls my attention back to the heart monitor. *Beep* My hands urge to tear it apart. *Beep* To see how it works. *Beep* 'I could build a better less annoying one...' Where did that idea come from?
An hour or so later, the clock was broken on the wall, the nurse came back with a doctor. He began to talk without introduction, "Mr John Doe, we have some questions, first of all your name and age." I give them my name and say I'm twenty. The nurse begins to busy herself about the room and the doctors frowns. "I'll give you a preliminary diagnosis of Spasticity. It means that your nerves aren't responding to your brain's signals because your brain is sending the wrong signals." I want to deny it, rage at the world, but that wouldn't help so I stay outwardly calm. "Are there any treatments?" The doctor glances up at my face from the chart, "No, none available here. But lets first see if you can at least walk." The nurse comes over and helps me as I slip to hanging my legs over the edge of the bed. "I want to try on my own first."
I take a deep breath and slowly slide off the bed and touch the cold floor with my bare feet. I try to straighten my legs from my sitting position and pain lances up them. The nurse and doctor see my wince, "Try to take it slow, don't push yourself to fast." I nod and push off the bed with my stiff arms and I'm standing. A smile graces my lips for just a second, then I unbalance and try to correct. A lance of pain shoots through my leg and I fall back on to the bed. The doctor looks at me with pity and my vision starts to go blurry and I feel the nurse draping the blanket back over my legs. "I'll leave you alone to process." The two blurry shapes leave the room and shut the door behind them. 'Why, my legs are still there, but they refuse to move to my wims.'
==Tick Tick Tick==
Some time later when the sun has set and I lay staring at the ceiling, my rooms door opens and a short person enters the room. I angle my head to look right at the intruder. Its a young girl about high school age wearing a white robe with huge bags under her eyes. She blearily blinks at me as if surprised this room is occupied. With a sigh and slumped shoulders she walks over next to my bed. "Do I have your permission to heal you?" What did she think she was a white mage or something, Hah magic is fake and my legs are fucked. I just stared back at her with dead eyes. With a huff she took my hand from my lap and froze. "I'm sorry I can't do brains, I'll- I'll just go." 'What that sounded familiar, like I had heard it somewhere… Or read it!' She let go and strode to the door. With a dry throat I called out. "Could you get me a cup of water before you go." She paused and looked at me before she walked over to the sink and filled a plastic cup with water and handed it to me. I took a sip and as she opened the door to leave and I spoke up more clearly. "Thank you for the water, and get some sleep, you look more dead than I." Without a word Panacea left and shut the door behind herself. My forced smile fell from my face, "Worm… Shit."
The next day I was discharged from the hospital, all of my life threatening injuries were healed by Panacea during her visit and somehow I existed in the system already. My insurance covered me and my new wheelchair, and I had an apartment a few blocks from the Medhall headquarters. This was all kinds of shady, but squinting over the information that I had found in my wallet, I had just moved to Brockton Bay a few days ago. I even had a grocery list and town map in my pocket. I sighed and looked up at the overcast sky, might as well wheel myself "Home" before it rains. I set my bag of items and wallet into my lap and stiffly slowly began to roll myself down the sidewalk, following road signs and just focusing on not rolling into the street.
Before I made it halfway the sky opened up and began its downpour. My already miserable day kept getting worse. People cleared the streets and rushed about, umbrellas opened and cars slowed, and I was soaked in minutes. My map thankfully turned to mush when I was just a street over so I could remember where I had to stop. I rolled to stop in front of the complex and eyed the doors. Pull doors, not much of an obstacle but I was in a wheelchair. Narrowing my eyes I rolled up next to the door and locked the wheels. With grit teeth my legs flexed and pushed me up three inches before I fell with a gasp back down sitting. By this point the streets were deserted and I was all alone outside in the rain. Removing the obstacle would be easy all I would need was a tiny bit of radioactive material some capacitors and parts from my wheelchair and I could melt the hinges off the door… "What?"
==Tick Tick Tick==
I struggle with my thoughts on how I knew how to turn a few parts of my wheelchair, some radioactive material and common capacitors into short lived plasma torch that can melt steel. Motion behind the glass doors make me look up to see a blond haired woman hurriedly opening the door for me. "Are you ok? Let me help you inside." As she goes around the back of my chair I unlock the wheels and let her push me inside out of the rain. As I'm pushed into the warmth I speak up over the sound of wet wheels over polished stone. "I'm ok just cold, and I just moved here a day ago." She stops pushing me and grabs some towels by the door and hands them to me. "Dry yourself off you'll get a cold."
I smile and thank her but get interrupted as I'm about to ask her name. An identical woman comes trotting down the stairs, "Nessa what's taking you so- Oh who's this?" I wrap the towel around my shoulders, "Oh uh hi I'm Ryan, Nessa was helping me get out of the rain." The currently unnamed woman eyes me with suspicion. "And what are you doing here?" I looked down to my plastic bag of possessions and reach inside retrieving my wallet and apartment key. "I just moved to Brockton and this is my new home I guess." I look at the number on my key closely, it did not seem my glasses made the transition. "Room uh, 1212." Nessa walked away to the post boxes and the still unnamed woman who I guessed was Nessa sister began to grill me.
What did I do, "I'm an small electronics systems engineer but mainly an automated machine designer." Where I'm from, "A town a little northwest of Boston." Why I was here, "I thought this place could use someone of my talents, and I always wanted to live closer to the sea." Nessa comes over and sighs, "Jess, leave the man alone he probably wants to get settled in his room and warm up and dry off, and your standing in front of the elevator." The now named Jess grumbled and went up the stairs, her sister following sorting envelopes, "Since your new to Brocton steer clear of the docks, there infested with filth." I smiled and waved, "Thank you." When the two blond blurs turned the staircase corner and passed out of sight I almost called out that they forgot the towel I still had over my shoulders. Sighing and shaking my head I rolled over to the elevator and pushed the button and rolled in.
Jerkily spinning around in my chair I fumbled for the twelfth floor button and accidently pressed the eighth and eleventh. The doors closed with a ding and I hummed along with the music, trying to make it all go away. The door open on floor eight and I pressed the door close button waiting for it to hurry up. Eleventh floor opened up and I repeatedly pressed door close. Floor twelve, I rolled out into a carpeted hallway, wheels pressing down into the soft floor cover with a soft sound. I rolled up to the door closests to the elevador to check the door number, room 1201 ok and across the hallway, room 1202. Oh so mine should be six doors down on the right. The carpeting muffled my movements but also gave added struggle to me rolling down the hallway, the carpeting did nothing to muffle my grunts of pain.
Making it to the door I slipped the key into the lock and turned it with a click. Taking my key I rolled inside and shut the door behind me with a hard shove. I turned my chair to take in my new home. A short hallway covered in red carpeting, rolling into the next room I saw the living area with hardwood floors, and an archway with an open tiled kitchen plus three doors. I want a shower and to sleep. Rolling past the giant flat screen and new couch I stopped at the first door, closet with cleaning supplies, next. A bedroom with king sized bed and writing desk, another giant flat screen on top of an ancient looking wooden bureau. Ok next, the next room was a full bath rushing in I banged my leg into the tub's edge before I stopped. How am I going to get in, what about getting back out, I could lock the chair next to the tub and kind of just fall out to the side.
But how to get back out, I'm having trouble moving my arms too, I don't know if they can support me. With a sigh I settle for struggling out of my clothes and cleaning off with a washcloth before draping myself with fluffy towels. Rolling back to the bedroom Iock the chair next to the slightly higher than my seat bed. With a growl I lift first my right leg, then left leg onto the soft blankets using my arms and keeping my legs from falling back down by tensing them. Then with a great heave I almost toss myself onto the softness. Within minutes I'm out, and just out of sight sits a handwritten letter on parchment sitting atop the bedside table. And on the front it had a wax seal with the initials O.F.G. stamped into it.
==Tick Tick Tick==
Pale shafts of sunlight filter through half drawn window blinds. The light shines directly on my face, groaning I try to roll over and find myself in sudden pain. Eyes shooting open I thrash from the pain and flail over onto my side. Panting from the sudden awakening I look around with just my eyes. A white painted wall, an open door that I can see a couch through, soft sheets I'm laying atop of. Oh right, Brockton Bay… Worm. My head turns a little bit to see the stationary chair next to my new bed. With narrowed eyes I struggle to sit on the beds edge, legs hanging over. Determination fills me and I push off and stand… and take a stiff step… and another… and my legs give out and I fall sideways, my arm shoots out and grabs my wheelchairs armrest, and I angle my fall to land awkwardly into my wheelchair.
Straightening myself out I unlock the wheels on my chair and are just about to spin in place when I catch sight of an off white envelope sealed with red wax. Pushing off I bump into the bedside table and snatch up the fold parchment. Pressed into the wax holding it closed are three letters O.F.G. all inside a twelve pointed star. If this is a joke I'm gonna be mad, if its a trap I'm already fucked. I slowly opened the letter careful not to tear the thick paper and read.
The letter
Dear, Ryan, the Useless me
You might be wondering what's going on, you most likely have found out you are in Brockton Bay, the city of Worm. You have probably found the map stuffed in your wallet along with some notes to help you find this apartment. You want me to get on with the letter so I'll lay it all out for you, I thought that no version of me should have to suffer a boring existence. So I decided to spice things up a bit. You might have been getting flashes of ideas, thoughts that don't make sense. But that's ok, cause I didn't just drop you in superpowered hell without a little edge of your own. In most simple terms I took the design of every object, technology and pseudoscience, and things frankly magic from a certain world and made a Tinker shard. It is unbound and loyal to only me so no others will gain insight from your creations. And why you ask, well I have grown bored. So live, fight, grow, and I might just show up to save you when the Golden end comes.
Your best hope,
Oberas Furiosus Gier
Planeswalker, Great One, R.O.B.
What… Really, I was kidnapped by an alternate version of myself and dropped into Worm… All for some kicks, for chuckles. That's… That actually makes sense in a twisted sort of way. The bottom of the letter begins to shimmer and I behold as words written themselves out before my eyes as if written by someone right now.
P.S. Here's a hint, "Obstruction detected. Composition: titanium alloy supplemented by photonic resonance barrier. Probability of mission hindrance: zero percent."
Ideas flashed through my mind, how to make a forcefield wall that fries anyone who touches it in a second, a giant robot that stomps through the streets vaporizing fleeing soldiers in seconds. More and more click together, a blocky rifle that fires beams of high intensity infrared light so hot it scorches the air. Weapons, war machines, technology. I wince and try to think of something other than tech and my mind latches onto one word, unbound. Unbound energy, unbound potential, blood sacrifice, a complicated curve blade and a few deaths to get information, ideas, power, and lastly to call distant beings. My brain trembled from the info I was given and I forced to think on helpful things. Protection, solid armor, forcefield projectors, rituals I could tap for safety. I latched onto the armor idea, green armor that could protect from gunfire like hail, but it was heavy and I could barely walk supporting myself.
Power armor, a frame of steel and aluminum with almost foot thick masses of steel bolted over it protect from high explosive impacts, fire, radiation, drowning, inbuilt oxygen supply. Powered legs would allow for the wearer, more of a pilot, to walk while carrying over itself twice over. The complete product would weigh half a ton, but I would be safe from almost everything short of a close range nuke. My head began to pound and I dropped the letter to hold my head. I watched as the letter flutter to the floor and it came to a rest, a second later a deep hum sounded out and the letter was sucked inwards into a tiny black spot above the letter with the sound of rushing air, and it was gone the only proof it existed was the waving window blinds in the sudden wind. I scrambled for my chairs wheels and rolled myself back to the bathroom where I dropped my bag of stuff, I needed to sketch down my power armor plans, I wanted to walk again.
Last edited:
Heavy READER
Book Devourer/Speed Reader
- Location
- Fitchburg, MA
This will be continued after Rotting Growth, just please be patient.
Last edited:
Heavy READER
Book Devourer/Speed Reader
- Location
- Fitchburg, MA
First chapter has been updated and revised, I'm cheating on SB. Have fun more to come, I will be swapping updates now, next week, Rotting Growth gets updated.
Last edited:
Chapter 1.2: First Steps
Heavy READER
Book Devourer/Speed Reader
- Location
- Fitchburg, MA
Chapter 1.2: First Steps
Digging through my bag I found a tiny flip top notebook and a half used pen and put idea to paper. Ink flowed and tiny designs filled tiny page after page, dimensions, weight, material compositions, they all were marked down. When I reached the last page in the notepad I tore my bag open looking for more paper, nothing. I hurriedly rolled to the kitchen area and wrenched open cabinets looking for something to write on. I grabbed a box of cereal and tore open the cardboard and discarded the bagged breakfast, right food. With one hand I continued writing down my ideas as they flowed and the other I fumbled with the bag of cereal and a bowl. Shoveling it in my face dry I finished with my plans. I blinked and looked down at the spread, a whole notepad and three cardboard boxes of dry food goods were sacrificed. At least I restrained myself from drawing on the white walls.
Two macaroni boxes were used to lay out the power source and the notepad and cereal box was used to map out every individual part. I settled back in my chair and set my pen to the side. Now that I have plans I would need the materials, the frame was meant to be modular, so that was what I would build first, then the power source. I blinked and actually looked at the amount of materials I would need to make just the frame. About one and a half tons of steel, that I would need to reforge to make each piece have a dense carbon lattice. 'Where could I get that much steel?' I rolled to the living room and pulled open the blinds to see the docks and beyond that, the boat scrapyard, boneyard? "Hrrmmm. Really far away, what else?"
I rolled to be sitting in front of the flat screen and snatched up the remote on the coffee table turning it on. Game show, cartoons, cartoons, commercial, News, baseball game… 'Wait what was on the news?' Flipping back I caught the end on a sentence, "olf of the empire was been captured by the Protectorate hero Armsmaster late last night during a three way running battle that also involved the villain Skidmark, who is still at large. More information after these messages." The news woman smiled and it cut to commercials. Shutting off the screen I thought over my new idea, I could join the Protectorate… Nah they would veto my power armor as too dangerous. What about… The Empire 88, I'm no racist, but Hookwolf, steel, Kaiser, steel. But racists… No no no, scavenging first before racists, not the Merchants, they're too drugged up to be lucid. ABB, I'm not aisan next, Coil… Nope, not touching that with a hundred foot pole.
Undersiders… No they're Coil, what else, New Wave… no mind rape for me please. Am I missing anyone? Uber and Leet, Faultlines crew. No I'm thinking of this wrong, how do I get a large amount of steel to make my power armor? Scrap metal would work, what about a weapon to protect myself that I could hide in my lap. Gun ideas all filled my head but none of them would work, I would need bullets. Shaking my head I went to get dressed to head to the boat… graveyard? Yes boat graveyard.
==Tick Tick Tick==
A sometime later before noon I rolled out of the apartments front doors with a pipe wrench tucked under my hoodie. It was drizzling and the sky was pale white, not many people were out in this weather. My wheelchair tires became slick in seconds and I had to bear with the cold dampness of my hands. Thanks to the weather not many people were out and the ones who were out just wanted to get inside so I was largely ignored. Making what I would think was good time I made it past the train yard and into the boat graveyard.
I slowed my forward roll by gripping the slick chair tires and leaned over to catch my breath, watching it fog up. Steadying myself I rolled into the yard and began weaving between rusted out hulks. I saw a piece of torn off ship hull and I rolled forward excitedly, it looked about the right size for my pur-. At that moment my right wheel hit an outcropping of steel and upended me out of my seat, twisting me to fall on my left side. In a panic my left hand shot out to break my fall and slide against the rusted edge of a shard of scrap metal that was resting on the ground. I gasped at the sudden pain and curled around my injured hand. After a minute of throbbing pain in my palm I unculed enough to take a look at the damage. A jagged cut starting from in between my pointer and middle finger dragged down to the base of my wrist. It slowly dripped blood and wasn't too deep, more of a bad scrape.
I looked at the jagged bit of metal and my mind blanked, and distantly and idea dripped in. A blade, made savagely, with bloody palm I grasped the rusted metal and turned it to examine it from all angles. Grind it down against rock and stone, bone and blood, and I will have a good weapon. I heard so… Shaking my head I righted my chair and struggled back into it, cradling the two foot chunk of steel. Rolling to my original objective I leaned forward mentally taking its dimensions. This will do for about a quarter of the whole thing if I can save most of it.
Smiling I leaned around and stuck the shard of metal in my hands into the back pocket of my wheelchair, but paused, unwilling to let it go. Why… My arms were outstretched and wheels locked and with a final heave, dragged the steel the final foot into a husk of a ship. I dropped it with a rattle of metal and wiped my hands on my damp jeans, smearing rust and blood on them. My left hand reached around me and brushed across the jagged shard in my wheelchairs back pocket. Material gathered, now I would need to start working it.
But first, a weapon to protect myself. I began grinding the metal shard against a blackish rock I found by the waterfront, shaping it with care... In between drags of the rock, the light faded and the rock paled and elongated. With care I set down the redish white long stone and looked at my work. The blade was perfect in the moonlight that fell through the hole in the ship's side, jagged edges and savage angles, it was twenty inches long and had two holes along the blade. And at the end was a wicked hook like a fang. A name… the name came to me Kremvh's Tooth.
==Tick Tick Tick==
Hours later I made it back to my apartment building and pulled the front door open with some effort after unlocking it. Rolling through the door I turned and locked it behind me. I had a bag with some groceries inside on my lap. I quietly rolled across the lobby and rode the elevator to my floor. My bandaged hand twinged with every revolution I forced my chairs wheels to go through. Getting into my room was a relief, I set the bag of groceries by the fridge and headed to the bathroom to clean up. Washing out the cut was the first thing I did and then I rebandaged it with gauze instead of a bit of torn white cloth.
A thought intruded on my wandering mind as I cleaned the blood off my arms. Why only bandage it I could make something to accelerate the healing process itself. My mind blanked and I dragged myself from the shower and fumbled for a towel. I struggled into my chair and grabbed the plunger to open the mirror cabinet over the sink and to knock all the pill bottles to the floor. Antibiotics, toothpaste, pain meds and others. I fell into a haze and blinked some time later and look up at the clock, 1:24am. Looking down at what I had created made me wonder how I got up here. I was sitting on top of the bathroom counter with a small pill bottle filled with a red liquid and covered in plastic wrap.
Injecting this would cause rapid regeneration in the target site, but could only repair non-complex body parts, eyes and brain tissue would not be affected. Looking to the side of the sink I saw what was left of a toothbrush, it had been melted into a fine pointed needle with a small plunger on the back. I looked at my hand and shrugged, picking up the needle I filled it with regenerative juice and injected a tiny bit into the edge of the gash on my hand. A half minute later a portion of the gash closest to the injection site had healed over with new skin.
The next minutes was filled with me carefully injecting the area around the wound with Re-Juice until my palm was only smooth skin. Flexing my hand I felt no different than normal and set my newest medicine aside. Now how do I get down from here? I thought back to how I got up here and images flashed. I had levered myself out of my chair onto the toilet seat then, onto the back of the toilet, and finally the foot between the toilet and the counter above and next to it. Picking up my mess I organized all the leftover bottles back into the medical cabinet and screwed the cap of my new Re-Juice back on, making a seal. It would stay stable for a month, if I wanted it to last longer I would need to vacuum seal it.
Making it back to my chair was a harrowing experience, but when I sat down I was sure I could do it again if I had too. Unlocking my wheels I rolled out to get dressed and noticed the bag of groceries, damn, I forgot to put those away. Dressing for bed I grabbed the bag and opened the fridge placing everything away. Tomorrow, I would visit the bank to withdraw some money and then look for a job to cover expenses.
==Tick Tick Tick==
Crawling out of bed I rolled to the living room with a bowl of cereal and milk and flipped through the channels as I ate. Cartoons, commercial, News, there we go. New Wave flying about the boardwalk, Wards patrolling downtown yesterday in the horrid weather. And a body was found early this morning. "The body of one Jacob Kiley was found in the early hours this morning, evidence shows he was savagely dismembered and missing his left leg, investigators say he died of blood loss. He left behind a wife and two children." I clicked off the screen. 'Good thing I'm lucky who ever did that didn't pick me, I like both my legs.' I winced as I looked down at them.
Not dwelling on those thoughts I got dressed and rolled out of the building at around 8:30am. Jess waved as I left with a newspaper in my lap turned to the help wanted section. My first stop was an electronics repair shop. Finding the place wasn't easy it was stuffed between an antiques shop and a small book store. Rolling inside I checked out the shop, stacks of radios, televisions and computers lined the walls. "Can I help you sir?" I turned to see someone manning the counter, it was a middle aged asian man with thinning hair and a black greese coated apron. "Oh, yes I'm here cause I saw you needed another set of hands around the shop."
He looked pointedly at my wheelchair. "And how are you to carry heavy boxes?" Confused I shook my head, "I can't, but I'm good with electronics, and can repair most radios, computers and television screens." I rolled toward the counter and stopped so we wouldn't be talking across the room. "So how do you want to do this?" He tapped the counter and shrugged, "I give you broken radio and you fix, if it work you get job." 'O.K… That works I guess.' I nodded and he opened the door behind the counter and led me into the back room. It was a small space with a bunch of random parts, diodes, resistors, transformers and chips were laid out in organized boxes. And sitting on a center bench was a gutted radio. I rolled up to it, "This radio?" He nodded, "Yes, fix without breaking too much and we discus hours and pay."
I picked up a voltmeter and got to work. Some of the wires had to be replaced cause they had been chewed through by rodents. A broken resistor had to be unsoldered and jury rigged with two cause I couldn't find one of the correct resistance. Burst capacitors were cleaned up and replaced, and correct diodes were soldered in. After fixing the power suply I had to tweak the cylinder coils to pick up the correct signals. The test speaker wasn't the right size so I had to dig through a box of close enough sizes until I found on that gave clear sound.
Putting the case back together I put the last screw in and looked over my shoulder to see the owner making notes on a pad. He finished his writing and looked at me, "Well plug it in." I complied and soon a local radio station was coming through the speaker. He stepped up beside me and began fiddling with it. After a minute he grunted, "This is good work, you hired. Work hours 8am to 3pm. Bring own lunch, 8.50 an hour, start now." He took the radio a way and pointed out a stack of broken electronics and said to fix what I can and scrap the rest to get more parts.
About a half hour later the bell in the shop area jingled and I hear Mr. Jing speaking with another man in what I thought was japanese, after a few minutes the door to the back opened and I turned to tell Mr. Jing I was done with a few more things when a man that was definitely not Jing grabbed my wheelchair handles and yanked me out of the room. "Hey what's your deal?" His response was a back hand that unseated me in the center of the store, crashing me into a display stand knocking a bunch of CB radios to the floor. As I groaned on the floor, Kremvh's Tooth dug into my waist were it was hidden across my lap in a simple sheath. The man who hit me jabbered with Jing for a minute until the bell on the door rung again and the store was silent. I rolled onto my side as footsteps padded across carpeting, Mr. Jing gently took ahold of my shoulder and helped me back into my chair. I forced a smile, "Thank you, but why?" He got a sad look, "Somebody saw you come in from Empire territory and thought you spy, tracked you down to my shop, didn't kill you cause I told him how good of a worker you are. Radios repaired for ABB, picked up your work and liked it. Go home early, I'll clean up."
He paid me for the hours I got in and I rolled out at 1am sporting a new bruise on my face. A small cardboard box was tucked away in my pocket filled with odds and ends that were too damaged to use. They would have been thrown away, but I needed to make something, the Re-Juice was nice, and so was my perfect knife. But I couldn't finish my power armor with just steel and I needed hydraulics and a full computers worth of tech to make it able to walk with less input. Hours later I was in the boat graveyard munching on a sandwich with one hand while hammering on a plate of steel with a hammer in the other. I had gone shopping earlier and picked up some chemicals. I didn't really pay attention to what I was buying, going by my tinker sense on what I would need to refine the steel I had. A bag of charcoal sat in the corner, ready to enter the chemical tub to bind with the steel after I hammered it into shape.
I paused in my hammering to inspect my work, a hand drill was then used to start on making the lightening holes. I worked all through the night and I dunked all the individual pieces into the chemical bath as the sun rose over the bay. Some small bits of aluminum was added to the bath. Now all I needed to do was mix the bath every once and a while for six hours. Wiping off my hands I began working on the control system and hydraulic lines. Industrial hydraulic fluid was used in the lines and I tested each piston before setting them aside. I had salvaged the pistons from an abandoned fish packing plant a few blocks away. The first sign something was wrong was the sound of a pair of footsteps.
The second was voices, the third was two young men dressed like Mario and Luigi walking into my hollowed out ship. They both had beat up costumes. Mario had an extendable baton that looked like a banana, and the Luigi had a red turtle shell. They both froze when I moved my arm to grab Kremvh's Tooth off my lap. The hydraulic grease on my face was a good enough accidental disguise. They had both entered the hollowed out ship at the same time and eyes darted to an unfinished Recharger pistol in front of me. I pointed the tooth at them and growled.An eye opens. The ground seemed to shake slightly and they both got wide eyed before bolting away in the predawn light. The eye slides shut.
==Tick Tick Tick==
At around 6am I had finished the internals for my Recharger pistol, but had yet to work out the powersource and casing. It looked like a tangled pile of vacuum tubes, wires and capacitors with a tiny radar dish at one end. Setting the tangle to the side I carefully stirred the chemical bath and put on a pair of rubber gloves to fish the power armor pieces out. One by one they were removed from the bath and dried, ready to be assembled into the full frame. Each interlocking joint was carefully bolted together and the heads were sheared off. Rubber tubing and gaskets were fitted. Hydraulics were attached and secured, and finally the final part was ready to be installed.
I had searched high and low for every scrap of radioactive material I could find, and sitting in a lead flashing lined box was the carefully refined product. The containment had been painstakingly been looked over for any faults, after a half hour of checking my jury rigged geiger counter and only getting normal background ticks when I waved it over the one-one hundredth filled microfusion pack. I grabbed a set of leaded rubber gloves and a plate of leaded glass before I opened the refiner. With a pair of tongs I fished out the tiny bit of nuclear material from the fusion cell and set that inside containment. The picked up the full size piece of dully green glowing solid cylinder. With quick movements I settled it inside the powerpack and made sure it was in the correct position before I permanently sealed it.
Quickly closing the shielded container that held my last bit of nuclear material I sighed and picked up the geiger counter. Steady slow ticks of background radiation answered me, waving ti all around I found it was only ever so slightly hotter around the microfusion pack. Doing some calculations I figured if I hugged the powerpack I would develop cancer in about ninety years of constant contact. I had more of chance if I tanned once a decade, I think i'll be safe.
Fitting the powerpack onto the frame was not an easy job, by this point I had the frame locked into a standing position, and the pack needed to be attached to the upper back. Tying a sling around the pack I levered myself onto my workbench, then right against the back of the frame. Gripping the back support structure I dragged myself onto its shoulders and sat there for a minute to catch my breath. After installing the pack I slid down the suits back and positioned myself to be sitting on my workbench edge. With quickening breath I twisted the round handle at the back and watched it unfold. With a grin I lifted my legs into place and pulled myself into the frame. I took a deep breath before thumbing the close switch, letting the suit close around me. Experimentally I raised my hands and made a fist. Then looking down at my legs I unlocked their position. And the first time in five days, I took a step, and another and I walked into the sun with arms spread, as if to embrace it.
Edit: I learned Invisitext, their will be more next chapter... Maybe.
Digging through my bag I found a tiny flip top notebook and a half used pen and put idea to paper. Ink flowed and tiny designs filled tiny page after page, dimensions, weight, material compositions, they all were marked down. When I reached the last page in the notepad I tore my bag open looking for more paper, nothing. I hurriedly rolled to the kitchen area and wrenched open cabinets looking for something to write on. I grabbed a box of cereal and tore open the cardboard and discarded the bagged breakfast, right food. With one hand I continued writing down my ideas as they flowed and the other I fumbled with the bag of cereal and a bowl. Shoveling it in my face dry I finished with my plans. I blinked and looked down at the spread, a whole notepad and three cardboard boxes of dry food goods were sacrificed. At least I restrained myself from drawing on the white walls.
Two macaroni boxes were used to lay out the power source and the notepad and cereal box was used to map out every individual part. I settled back in my chair and set my pen to the side. Now that I have plans I would need the materials, the frame was meant to be modular, so that was what I would build first, then the power source. I blinked and actually looked at the amount of materials I would need to make just the frame. About one and a half tons of steel, that I would need to reforge to make each piece have a dense carbon lattice. 'Where could I get that much steel?' I rolled to the living room and pulled open the blinds to see the docks and beyond that, the boat scrapyard, boneyard? "Hrrmmm. Really far away, what else?"
I rolled to be sitting in front of the flat screen and snatched up the remote on the coffee table turning it on. Game show, cartoons, cartoons, commercial, News, baseball game… 'Wait what was on the news?' Flipping back I caught the end on a sentence, "olf of the empire was been captured by the Protectorate hero Armsmaster late last night during a three way running battle that also involved the villain Skidmark, who is still at large. More information after these messages." The news woman smiled and it cut to commercials. Shutting off the screen I thought over my new idea, I could join the Protectorate… Nah they would veto my power armor as too dangerous. What about… The Empire 88, I'm no racist, but Hookwolf, steel, Kaiser, steel. But racists… No no no, scavenging first before racists, not the Merchants, they're too drugged up to be lucid. ABB, I'm not aisan next, Coil… Nope, not touching that with a hundred foot pole.
Undersiders… No they're Coil, what else, New Wave… no mind rape for me please. Am I missing anyone? Uber and Leet, Faultlines crew. No I'm thinking of this wrong, how do I get a large amount of steel to make my power armor? Scrap metal would work, what about a weapon to protect myself that I could hide in my lap. Gun ideas all filled my head but none of them would work, I would need bullets. Shaking my head I went to get dressed to head to the boat… graveyard? Yes boat graveyard.
==Tick Tick Tick==
A sometime later before noon I rolled out of the apartments front doors with a pipe wrench tucked under my hoodie. It was drizzling and the sky was pale white, not many people were out in this weather. My wheelchair tires became slick in seconds and I had to bear with the cold dampness of my hands. Thanks to the weather not many people were out and the ones who were out just wanted to get inside so I was largely ignored. Making what I would think was good time I made it past the train yard and into the boat graveyard.
I slowed my forward roll by gripping the slick chair tires and leaned over to catch my breath, watching it fog up. Steadying myself I rolled into the yard and began weaving between rusted out hulks. I saw a piece of torn off ship hull and I rolled forward excitedly, it looked about the right size for my pur-. At that moment my right wheel hit an outcropping of steel and upended me out of my seat, twisting me to fall on my left side. In a panic my left hand shot out to break my fall and slide against the rusted edge of a shard of scrap metal that was resting on the ground. I gasped at the sudden pain and curled around my injured hand. After a minute of throbbing pain in my palm I unculed enough to take a look at the damage. A jagged cut starting from in between my pointer and middle finger dragged down to the base of my wrist. It slowly dripped blood and wasn't too deep, more of a bad scrape.
I looked at the jagged bit of metal and my mind blanked, and distantly and idea dripped in. A blade, made savagely, with bloody palm I grasped the rusted metal and turned it to examine it from all angles. Grind it down against rock and stone, bone and blood, and I will have a good weapon. I heard so… Shaking my head I righted my chair and struggled back into it, cradling the two foot chunk of steel. Rolling to my original objective I leaned forward mentally taking its dimensions. This will do for about a quarter of the whole thing if I can save most of it.
Smiling I leaned around and stuck the shard of metal in my hands into the back pocket of my wheelchair, but paused, unwilling to let it go. Why… My arms were outstretched and wheels locked and with a final heave, dragged the steel the final foot into a husk of a ship. I dropped it with a rattle of metal and wiped my hands on my damp jeans, smearing rust and blood on them. My left hand reached around me and brushed across the jagged shard in my wheelchairs back pocket. Material gathered, now I would need to start working it.
But first, a weapon to protect myself. I began grinding the metal shard against a blackish rock I found by the waterfront, shaping it with care... In between drags of the rock, the light faded and the rock paled and elongated. With care I set down the redish white long stone and looked at my work. The blade was perfect in the moonlight that fell through the hole in the ship's side, jagged edges and savage angles, it was twenty inches long and had two holes along the blade. And at the end was a wicked hook like a fang. A name… the name came to me Kremvh's Tooth.
==Tick Tick Tick==
Hours later I made it back to my apartment building and pulled the front door open with some effort after unlocking it. Rolling through the door I turned and locked it behind me. I had a bag with some groceries inside on my lap. I quietly rolled across the lobby and rode the elevator to my floor. My bandaged hand twinged with every revolution I forced my chairs wheels to go through. Getting into my room was a relief, I set the bag of groceries by the fridge and headed to the bathroom to clean up. Washing out the cut was the first thing I did and then I rebandaged it with gauze instead of a bit of torn white cloth.
A thought intruded on my wandering mind as I cleaned the blood off my arms. Why only bandage it I could make something to accelerate the healing process itself. My mind blanked and I dragged myself from the shower and fumbled for a towel. I struggled into my chair and grabbed the plunger to open the mirror cabinet over the sink and to knock all the pill bottles to the floor. Antibiotics, toothpaste, pain meds and others. I fell into a haze and blinked some time later and look up at the clock, 1:24am. Looking down at what I had created made me wonder how I got up here. I was sitting on top of the bathroom counter with a small pill bottle filled with a red liquid and covered in plastic wrap.
Injecting this would cause rapid regeneration in the target site, but could only repair non-complex body parts, eyes and brain tissue would not be affected. Looking to the side of the sink I saw what was left of a toothbrush, it had been melted into a fine pointed needle with a small plunger on the back. I looked at my hand and shrugged, picking up the needle I filled it with regenerative juice and injected a tiny bit into the edge of the gash on my hand. A half minute later a portion of the gash closest to the injection site had healed over with new skin.
The next minutes was filled with me carefully injecting the area around the wound with Re-Juice until my palm was only smooth skin. Flexing my hand I felt no different than normal and set my newest medicine aside. Now how do I get down from here? I thought back to how I got up here and images flashed. I had levered myself out of my chair onto the toilet seat then, onto the back of the toilet, and finally the foot between the toilet and the counter above and next to it. Picking up my mess I organized all the leftover bottles back into the medical cabinet and screwed the cap of my new Re-Juice back on, making a seal. It would stay stable for a month, if I wanted it to last longer I would need to vacuum seal it.
Making it back to my chair was a harrowing experience, but when I sat down I was sure I could do it again if I had too. Unlocking my wheels I rolled out to get dressed and noticed the bag of groceries, damn, I forgot to put those away. Dressing for bed I grabbed the bag and opened the fridge placing everything away. Tomorrow, I would visit the bank to withdraw some money and then look for a job to cover expenses.
==Tick Tick Tick==
Crawling out of bed I rolled to the living room with a bowl of cereal and milk and flipped through the channels as I ate. Cartoons, commercial, News, there we go. New Wave flying about the boardwalk, Wards patrolling downtown yesterday in the horrid weather. And a body was found early this morning. "The body of one Jacob Kiley was found in the early hours this morning, evidence shows he was savagely dismembered and missing his left leg, investigators say he died of blood loss. He left behind a wife and two children." I clicked off the screen. 'Good thing I'm lucky who ever did that didn't pick me, I like both my legs.' I winced as I looked down at them.
Not dwelling on those thoughts I got dressed and rolled out of the building at around 8:30am. Jess waved as I left with a newspaper in my lap turned to the help wanted section. My first stop was an electronics repair shop. Finding the place wasn't easy it was stuffed between an antiques shop and a small book store. Rolling inside I checked out the shop, stacks of radios, televisions and computers lined the walls. "Can I help you sir?" I turned to see someone manning the counter, it was a middle aged asian man with thinning hair and a black greese coated apron. "Oh, yes I'm here cause I saw you needed another set of hands around the shop."
He looked pointedly at my wheelchair. "And how are you to carry heavy boxes?" Confused I shook my head, "I can't, but I'm good with electronics, and can repair most radios, computers and television screens." I rolled toward the counter and stopped so we wouldn't be talking across the room. "So how do you want to do this?" He tapped the counter and shrugged, "I give you broken radio and you fix, if it work you get job." 'O.K… That works I guess.' I nodded and he opened the door behind the counter and led me into the back room. It was a small space with a bunch of random parts, diodes, resistors, transformers and chips were laid out in organized boxes. And sitting on a center bench was a gutted radio. I rolled up to it, "This radio?" He nodded, "Yes, fix without breaking too much and we discus hours and pay."
I picked up a voltmeter and got to work. Some of the wires had to be replaced cause they had been chewed through by rodents. A broken resistor had to be unsoldered and jury rigged with two cause I couldn't find one of the correct resistance. Burst capacitors were cleaned up and replaced, and correct diodes were soldered in. After fixing the power suply I had to tweak the cylinder coils to pick up the correct signals. The test speaker wasn't the right size so I had to dig through a box of close enough sizes until I found on that gave clear sound.
Putting the case back together I put the last screw in and looked over my shoulder to see the owner making notes on a pad. He finished his writing and looked at me, "Well plug it in." I complied and soon a local radio station was coming through the speaker. He stepped up beside me and began fiddling with it. After a minute he grunted, "This is good work, you hired. Work hours 8am to 3pm. Bring own lunch, 8.50 an hour, start now." He took the radio a way and pointed out a stack of broken electronics and said to fix what I can and scrap the rest to get more parts.
About a half hour later the bell in the shop area jingled and I hear Mr. Jing speaking with another man in what I thought was japanese, after a few minutes the door to the back opened and I turned to tell Mr. Jing I was done with a few more things when a man that was definitely not Jing grabbed my wheelchair handles and yanked me out of the room. "Hey what's your deal?" His response was a back hand that unseated me in the center of the store, crashing me into a display stand knocking a bunch of CB radios to the floor. As I groaned on the floor, Kremvh's Tooth dug into my waist were it was hidden across my lap in a simple sheath. The man who hit me jabbered with Jing for a minute until the bell on the door rung again and the store was silent. I rolled onto my side as footsteps padded across carpeting, Mr. Jing gently took ahold of my shoulder and helped me back into my chair. I forced a smile, "Thank you, but why?" He got a sad look, "Somebody saw you come in from Empire territory and thought you spy, tracked you down to my shop, didn't kill you cause I told him how good of a worker you are. Radios repaired for ABB, picked up your work and liked it. Go home early, I'll clean up."
He paid me for the hours I got in and I rolled out at 1am sporting a new bruise on my face. A small cardboard box was tucked away in my pocket filled with odds and ends that were too damaged to use. They would have been thrown away, but I needed to make something, the Re-Juice was nice, and so was my perfect knife. But I couldn't finish my power armor with just steel and I needed hydraulics and a full computers worth of tech to make it able to walk with less input. Hours later I was in the boat graveyard munching on a sandwich with one hand while hammering on a plate of steel with a hammer in the other. I had gone shopping earlier and picked up some chemicals. I didn't really pay attention to what I was buying, going by my tinker sense on what I would need to refine the steel I had. A bag of charcoal sat in the corner, ready to enter the chemical tub to bind with the steel after I hammered it into shape.
I paused in my hammering to inspect my work, a hand drill was then used to start on making the lightening holes. I worked all through the night and I dunked all the individual pieces into the chemical bath as the sun rose over the bay. Some small bits of aluminum was added to the bath. Now all I needed to do was mix the bath every once and a while for six hours. Wiping off my hands I began working on the control system and hydraulic lines. Industrial hydraulic fluid was used in the lines and I tested each piston before setting them aside. I had salvaged the pistons from an abandoned fish packing plant a few blocks away. The first sign something was wrong was the sound of a pair of footsteps.
The second was voices, the third was two young men dressed like Mario and Luigi walking into my hollowed out ship. They both had beat up costumes. Mario had an extendable baton that looked like a banana, and the Luigi had a red turtle shell. They both froze when I moved my arm to grab Kremvh's Tooth off my lap. The hydraulic grease on my face was a good enough accidental disguise. They had both entered the hollowed out ship at the same time and eyes darted to an unfinished Recharger pistol in front of me. I pointed the tooth at them and growled.An eye opens. The ground seemed to shake slightly and they both got wide eyed before bolting away in the predawn light. The eye slides shut.
==Tick Tick Tick==
At around 6am I had finished the internals for my Recharger pistol, but had yet to work out the powersource and casing. It looked like a tangled pile of vacuum tubes, wires and capacitors with a tiny radar dish at one end. Setting the tangle to the side I carefully stirred the chemical bath and put on a pair of rubber gloves to fish the power armor pieces out. One by one they were removed from the bath and dried, ready to be assembled into the full frame. Each interlocking joint was carefully bolted together and the heads were sheared off. Rubber tubing and gaskets were fitted. Hydraulics were attached and secured, and finally the final part was ready to be installed.
I had searched high and low for every scrap of radioactive material I could find, and sitting in a lead flashing lined box was the carefully refined product. The containment had been painstakingly been looked over for any faults, after a half hour of checking my jury rigged geiger counter and only getting normal background ticks when I waved it over the one-one hundredth filled microfusion pack. I grabbed a set of leaded rubber gloves and a plate of leaded glass before I opened the refiner. With a pair of tongs I fished out the tiny bit of nuclear material from the fusion cell and set that inside containment. The picked up the full size piece of dully green glowing solid cylinder. With quick movements I settled it inside the powerpack and made sure it was in the correct position before I permanently sealed it.
Quickly closing the shielded container that held my last bit of nuclear material I sighed and picked up the geiger counter. Steady slow ticks of background radiation answered me, waving ti all around I found it was only ever so slightly hotter around the microfusion pack. Doing some calculations I figured if I hugged the powerpack I would develop cancer in about ninety years of constant contact. I had more of chance if I tanned once a decade, I think i'll be safe.
Fitting the powerpack onto the frame was not an easy job, by this point I had the frame locked into a standing position, and the pack needed to be attached to the upper back. Tying a sling around the pack I levered myself onto my workbench, then right against the back of the frame. Gripping the back support structure I dragged myself onto its shoulders and sat there for a minute to catch my breath. After installing the pack I slid down the suits back and positioned myself to be sitting on my workbench edge. With quickening breath I twisted the round handle at the back and watched it unfold. With a grin I lifted my legs into place and pulled myself into the frame. I took a deep breath before thumbing the close switch, letting the suit close around me. Experimentally I raised my hands and made a fist. Then looking down at my legs I unlocked their position. And the first time in five days, I took a step, and another and I walked into the sun with arms spread, as if to embrace it.
Edit: I learned Invisitext, their will be more next chapter... Maybe.
Last edited:
Seeing as you have a tinker power that lets you make anything from fallout I think you should get a pet chameleon and do like the fallout pre-war government and turn it into a deathclaw that is loyal to you. Awesome story by the way, it is watched with great anticipation.
If he's got all the Fallout tech, he should brew up the perfected super mutant formula. The scientists finished making and testing it just before all the dumb super mutants broke out and killed them, and went on to use the flawed formula to make more of themselves.
I can see the process needing him more mobile to make, so he could see about making it now that he can move better. One of the things it has is regeneration so it should heal him up fine. It's a nice solid boost to everything and the radiation that you are going to be around while making everything else won't be any problem at all. Hell, once he's secure and got a bit of a production line going on he can start selling it as well as plenty of people would sign up.
I can see the process needing him more mobile to make, so he could see about making it now that he can move better. One of the things it has is regeneration so it should heal him up fine. It's a nice solid boost to everything and the radiation that you are going to be around while making everything else won't be any problem at all. Hell, once he's secure and got a bit of a production line going on he can start selling it as well as plenty of people would sign up.
arisen gunman
American Monarchist
- Location
- united states
Super mutants are a bad idea because he'll get labeled a bio tinker and likely receive a kill order.
- Location
- A land of Dreams, Nightmares, and Fairytales.
It's a pre-signed kill order. It's only applicable if he makes something that can reproduce. super mutants are all sterile.
arisen gunman
American Monarchist
- Location
- united states
Yes but isn't there something about intelligent creatures that also does that?
- Location
- USA
But he's not making an intelligent creature, he's augmenting himself with Tinkertech.
Heavy READER
Book Devourer/Speed Reader
- Location
- Fitchburg, MA
But, big green mutant... No hair, no genitals, unwieldy hands. From a pure min max way of viewing it, yes it is worth it. But no secret identity, no taking off the costume. It would probably fix his brain damage and need for glasses, well it would but then he would no longer be human. I was thinking more along the line of Auto Doc.
DragoNT
Hater of Plot Devices
- Location
- Australia
then do what NV did and take his brain out and have two different bodies one for Civilian life one for Cape life and swap the brain between bodies.
- Location
- USA
Let's add in some nior with a epumatic messenger tube, like the one from the shadow. To shuttle the brain between the civilian body, and the Cape body.
Well, if it is any Fallout tech, clones are a thing. Just ask Gary and the rest of Vault 108. Memory loungers to upload a copy of himself and then download it into the clones. An army of himself.
Chapter 1.3: Lung’s T.V. repair man
Heavy READER
Book Devourer/Speed Reader
- Location
- Fitchburg, MA
Chapter 1.3: Lung's T.V. repair man
After basking in the late winter sun for a while I turned away from the light and began to walk back to the workshop area. The ground thumping beneath me with every step as the hydraulic pistons did their work. I was so giddy that I missed a bit of scrap in my path and stepped on it. Now this would have done nothing normally but it was a round billet of steel about three inches across. So when my right leg came down on it instead of me taking my next step, I tripped forward and stuck my arms out to grab the ships rusty wall. My panicked flailing punched two holes in the rusty hull and dragged them into two furrows with the sound of tearing steel as I slowed me decent. My fall stopped with me on my knees and my arms buried in the ship's side up to my mid forearms. Blinking I tugged my hands out of the ship with a wince at the screech of tortured metal.
Getting to my feet I checked myself over, 'No damage to the frame itself, a bit of dirt on the knee parts but otherwise fine.' Looking at my hands I experimentally clenched them, and the frames actions mirrored mine. With narrowed eyes I reached out and carefully put my hand around a ladder section of the ship and closed my hand. There was small bit of feedback as I deformed the metal in my grasp. 'Ahh, should probably tone that back a bit.' Watching where I placed my feet I made my way over to the rudimentary work table. It was really just a vise and a cobbled together drill press with block of steel I had used as an anvil.
I sighed, 'I'm gonna need to move shop to somewhere else since those two capes saw me last night.' With careful fingers I took up a screwdriver in one hand and held out my other. With slow precise movements I turned down the grip strength on one hand then the other until it was just over steel bending when I tried. Tucking away the incomplete Recharger pistol in my wheelchair back pocket alongside the blade, I then swept everything into the now empty chemical bath and set that into my chair seat. Then with one hand I grabbed my scraped together helmet that would work as a mask and slipped it on. The hammered and untreated steel was rusty and had a single plexiglass pane I could look out of.
Looking around the soon to abandoned workspace I didn't see anything I missed so I pushed my wheelchair laden with parts and walked out in search of a new place to hide my stuff. Steady thumps of power armor on concrete was the only sound that accompanied me during my half hour trip north. In that time I spotted several places that held promise but were just too beat up. I found one ship almost halfway submerged and smiled under my helmet. 'That'll do.' It was laying on its side so with some finagling I opened up a hole in the ship that was out of sight from the shore but visible from the water, and went in and looked around. The rusty holes in the ship provided ample illumination inside the cargo bay. Crates scattered haphazardly and destroyed contents strewn about. Going to a spot that was hidden between two crates I sagged and thumbed the open switch after positioning my wheelchair behind me.
The armor opened like clam shell and I fell out into my wheel locked chair. "Oof, ow ow ow, note to self, do not let yourself fall out of armor, three feet to falling on your backside is no joke, not to mention what it would feel like if I missed my chair." The armor folded back up and I unlocked my wheels and rolled back out of the ship. Taking a detour to wash my face with sea water, I sputtered and checked my reflection. My eyes are bagged one black, hair wild, and expression dull. I fix my hair and try a toothy smile, yup still looks fake and creepy. I check my watch, 7:34am… If I hurry I'll only be slightly late for work. I was late.
==Tick Tick Tick==
Mr. Jing seemed surprised to see me. "When you didn't show up, thought you chose to never come back… You late, by eighteen minutes, let slide, cause of yesterday." After he said that it was business as usual. I wheeled my way into the back room and went right to work fixing broken electronics. My face throbbed every now and then but focusing on what my hands were doing made it distant. A few times I had to stop myself from making some of the electronics run differently then they should, hands reached for vacuum tubes instead of transistors. Wire to hardwire things instead of replacement computer chips.
My arms were buried in the guts of an old CRT television when the backroom door opened. "Lunch break, after you take yours, man counter while I take mine." I looked back, "Yes sir." Wiping off my hands on a rag I went over to the large sink and cleaned them better before I reached behind me and took out my prepared lunch. A baloney and cheese sandwich on white. After scarfing down my food I washed my hands and rolled out of the back room. "Done Mr. Jing, you said you wanted me to man the counter." He looked up from a catalog of electronic parts, "Yes, a man, Mr. Kenta might be here today, his T.V. is behind counter, when he comes in hand it off to him, he paid in advance." With those parting works Mr. Jing stepped out of the store, "I be back in half hour, register locked, no funny ideas."
Shaking slightly from the idea of Kenta, Lung stopping by I shook my head side to side. 'I can't be that unlucky.' So I settled behind the counter and waited. A few minutes later two asian teens came in and browsed before leaving without buying anything. And a dull ten minutes passed before the bell on the door range again. A large asian man in a white tee-shirt and exposed arm tattoos stepped in and paused upon see in me. The door shut behind him and he stopped before the counter. With a forced close mouthed smile I greeted him, "Hello, what can I help you with today sir?" He stared down at me, his height only made more prominent due to my wheelchair bound form. "I am Kenta, you have a order waiting for me." I nodded and turned my chair and rolled the two feet to the large boxed television. With a grunt I lifted it onto my lap and set it on the counter. "Here you go Mr. Kenta, I was told you paid in advance, and will that be all for today?"
His narrowed eyes trailed down from my bagged eyes to my grey hoodie and grease stained apron, and to my wheelchair. My eyes fearfully flicked to his tattoos and back, back to his face, shit he was watching me. He snorted and I swear I expected smoke to come out but he only grabbed his heavy boxed television under one arm and walked out. The jingling bell on the door as it closed signaled the second I sagged in my chair. 'Oh shit, I live in the same apartment as the Empire 88 Valkyries and work as Lung's T.V. repair guy.' The image of Lung coming back some time later cause his Tv breaks during an anime, to rip me limb from limb pops in my head. 'You interrupted Princess Luna's transformation scene.' And then I would be on fire and dead.
The door jingled and I looked up and sighed, it was just Mr. Jing. "I am back, how did you like manning the counter?" I smiled, "Ok, only three people came, two people came into look around and Kenta stopped by for his television." Mr. Jing nodded, "Good, I take over, go fix some more soon to be stock." Nodding I rolled into the back room and got back to repairing electronics. Shaky hands slowed me down for the rest of the day.
With gritted teeth I pushed myself from Jings Electronics towards where I hid my power armor. Arms strained and flexed, pain and almost a runner's high hit me when I slowed down halfway to the boat graveyard. I needed to get stronger, needed to get better to survive in this world. I got to the graveyard in record time and rolled with noodle arms into the half submerged ship. I rolled up to the back of my armor and set the tooth to the side before I hurried to get in. Opening and closing armor and I'm standing once more. Bending down I swipe up the tooth and hook it to my belt before grabbing the incomplete Recharger pistol to finish with the wiring and energy cell. A manic grin never left my face as parts just seemed to fit together.
==Tick Tick Tick==
Hours after the sun had set I was wandering the boat graveyard in search of useful scrap. Power armored feet clomping along, the scrap helmet protecting my identity and an old torn canvas ship sail was sloppily stitched into a poncho to hide the gaps in the power armor frame. Stopping before a sheet of steel in not horrible condition I clipped my finished Recharger pistol under my poncho and proceed to fold the sheet of metal like paper into a easier to carry size. The screams of tortured metal is probably why I didn't hear the footsteps or voice until I was finished. "Unidentified Parahuman, state your-" The rest of the sentence was drowned out by me dropping the metal sheet with a crash and pulling the Tooth and brandishing it at the voice.
I turned my head in time to see a man in midnight blue power armor with silver lines holding a halberd to his side, about fifteen feet away from me. Lowering the Tooth I lean forward in a half crouch. "Armsmaster." My voice came out in a harsh mechanical tone void of emotion. (Sentry bot voice) He waited a few seconds before starting again, "Unidentified Parahuman, state your reason for causing a disruption in this area." I slowly come out of half crouch and slip the Tooth under my poncho. "Clearing scrap." I turn away from him and pick up the heavy sheet of folded steel under one arm and turn to look at the Tinker, before I walk away toward where I had been stacking scrap steel. My clomps are followed by quieter more efficient footsteps and he matches pace with me.
He follows in silence for a few seconds before speaking, "What are your intentions in this city?" He paused as if waiting for my name and I obliged him. "Designation: Atom. Mission: Technological advancement through removal of unwanted refuse. Examples: Discarded scrap and intrusive non law abiding citizens." Armsmaster seemed to take my strange way of speaking in stride, "The Protectorate could provide tinker materials so you would not need to gather junk to advance your tinkering." I stopped before the stack of steel and set the sheet I was carrying down, "Negative: Protectorates probability of mission hindrance: ninety seven percent." He countered quickly, "What makes you think the Protectorate would hold you back?"
I stayed quiet for several seconds while I arranged the folded steel plates. "Designation: Atom, selfish and have no urge to join conflict, Rogue status preferred." I turned back to face Armsmaster, "This unit is open to trade with other Tinkers and will be available to aid in future crises. Good Day." I turned and began walking back the way I came to get one more load of steel for the night, I would need enough to make my power armor more protective. Armsamater left the same way he must have come in leaving to the south and the sound of a motorcycle roaring into the distance.
==Tick Tick Tick==
The sun was slowly rising over the bay as I hammered the last piece of torso armor into shape. All the separate components were laid out before me, ready to be dunked in the same chemical bath I had made for the frame. After treatment I could start assembling the parts to make the torso. The large plates of steel had been wire brushed down to a dark silver finish, I'll paint them after treatment. Leaning back on my heels I sighed and began cleaning up. Another all nighter, I need to get some sleep soon.
As those thoughts went through my mind I was already gently setting the thick sheets of steel into the chemical bath. Clapping my hands together with a click of steel on steel I walk over to the empty spot next to my wheelchair. Sagging in the frame I get ready to get out when a yawn forces me to close my eyes. "Urg, sleep later, I'll get some tonight." Thumbing the switch I push myself out and keep a hold of the struts of the frame and ease myself into my wheelchair.
Unlocking the wheels I check the chemical bath and judge it to finish some time in the afternoon. Tiredly I sweep my gaze over the tabletop with scattered papers filled with designs, need computer parts for that, need more radioactive material, more glass. Another yawn interrupts me and I slip the Tooth into my hoodie and Recharger pistol in next to it. Rolling out of the shipwreck I pause in the sun. I need a desktop computer, copper wire, and some surgical stainless steel scalpels. All the other parts are already set up in my apartment, ready for final checks. I roll in a daze back home and ride the elevator up fumble with my keys and make it inside.
Closing the door behind me I lock it and look at the pile of machine components sitting on the table in front of the couch. Seeing they haven't been disturbed I roll about, getting washed up and preparing breakfast and lunch. A half hour later and fed, I rolled on to work after locking my door behind me. I rolled out of the lobby passing one of the twins, "Mornin." She greeted me back but I missed her reply due to me being already out the door. The cold March air brushed against my face as I rolled to work.
A few hours and a dozen fixed electronics later the building began to shake. Mr. Jing came in the back room in a rush. "Hide under table, Nazis." I blearily blinked at him and was dragged out of my chair and under the table by my arm. Every shake was bigger than the last and I thought the ceiling would come down when I heard plaster crack. Soon the shakes began to lessen and fade away. We waited a few seconds after we couldn't feel anymore shaking and Mr. Jing crawled out from under the table helping me back into my chair. "You said Nazis, so Empire… Great, does this happen often?" Mr. Jing shook his head, "Not often but happens, duck under cover, treat as earthquake, angry earthquake." We both hesitantly went back to work and minutes later we heard sirens scream past in the direction of the stomping giant Nazis.
Edit: Took ScottotheUnwise's advice and changed "I" to "This unit."
After basking in the late winter sun for a while I turned away from the light and began to walk back to the workshop area. The ground thumping beneath me with every step as the hydraulic pistons did their work. I was so giddy that I missed a bit of scrap in my path and stepped on it. Now this would have done nothing normally but it was a round billet of steel about three inches across. So when my right leg came down on it instead of me taking my next step, I tripped forward and stuck my arms out to grab the ships rusty wall. My panicked flailing punched two holes in the rusty hull and dragged them into two furrows with the sound of tearing steel as I slowed me decent. My fall stopped with me on my knees and my arms buried in the ship's side up to my mid forearms. Blinking I tugged my hands out of the ship with a wince at the screech of tortured metal.
Getting to my feet I checked myself over, 'No damage to the frame itself, a bit of dirt on the knee parts but otherwise fine.' Looking at my hands I experimentally clenched them, and the frames actions mirrored mine. With narrowed eyes I reached out and carefully put my hand around a ladder section of the ship and closed my hand. There was small bit of feedback as I deformed the metal in my grasp. 'Ahh, should probably tone that back a bit.' Watching where I placed my feet I made my way over to the rudimentary work table. It was really just a vise and a cobbled together drill press with block of steel I had used as an anvil.
I sighed, 'I'm gonna need to move shop to somewhere else since those two capes saw me last night.' With careful fingers I took up a screwdriver in one hand and held out my other. With slow precise movements I turned down the grip strength on one hand then the other until it was just over steel bending when I tried. Tucking away the incomplete Recharger pistol in my wheelchair back pocket alongside the blade, I then swept everything into the now empty chemical bath and set that into my chair seat. Then with one hand I grabbed my scraped together helmet that would work as a mask and slipped it on. The hammered and untreated steel was rusty and had a single plexiglass pane I could look out of.
Looking around the soon to abandoned workspace I didn't see anything I missed so I pushed my wheelchair laden with parts and walked out in search of a new place to hide my stuff. Steady thumps of power armor on concrete was the only sound that accompanied me during my half hour trip north. In that time I spotted several places that held promise but were just too beat up. I found one ship almost halfway submerged and smiled under my helmet. 'That'll do.' It was laying on its side so with some finagling I opened up a hole in the ship that was out of sight from the shore but visible from the water, and went in and looked around. The rusty holes in the ship provided ample illumination inside the cargo bay. Crates scattered haphazardly and destroyed contents strewn about. Going to a spot that was hidden between two crates I sagged and thumbed the open switch after positioning my wheelchair behind me.
The armor opened like clam shell and I fell out into my wheel locked chair. "Oof, ow ow ow, note to self, do not let yourself fall out of armor, three feet to falling on your backside is no joke, not to mention what it would feel like if I missed my chair." The armor folded back up and I unlocked my wheels and rolled back out of the ship. Taking a detour to wash my face with sea water, I sputtered and checked my reflection. My eyes are bagged one black, hair wild, and expression dull. I fix my hair and try a toothy smile, yup still looks fake and creepy. I check my watch, 7:34am… If I hurry I'll only be slightly late for work. I was late.
==Tick Tick Tick==
Mr. Jing seemed surprised to see me. "When you didn't show up, thought you chose to never come back… You late, by eighteen minutes, let slide, cause of yesterday." After he said that it was business as usual. I wheeled my way into the back room and went right to work fixing broken electronics. My face throbbed every now and then but focusing on what my hands were doing made it distant. A few times I had to stop myself from making some of the electronics run differently then they should, hands reached for vacuum tubes instead of transistors. Wire to hardwire things instead of replacement computer chips.
My arms were buried in the guts of an old CRT television when the backroom door opened. "Lunch break, after you take yours, man counter while I take mine." I looked back, "Yes sir." Wiping off my hands on a rag I went over to the large sink and cleaned them better before I reached behind me and took out my prepared lunch. A baloney and cheese sandwich on white. After scarfing down my food I washed my hands and rolled out of the back room. "Done Mr. Jing, you said you wanted me to man the counter." He looked up from a catalog of electronic parts, "Yes, a man, Mr. Kenta might be here today, his T.V. is behind counter, when he comes in hand it off to him, he paid in advance." With those parting works Mr. Jing stepped out of the store, "I be back in half hour, register locked, no funny ideas."
Shaking slightly from the idea of Kenta, Lung stopping by I shook my head side to side. 'I can't be that unlucky.' So I settled behind the counter and waited. A few minutes later two asian teens came in and browsed before leaving without buying anything. And a dull ten minutes passed before the bell on the door range again. A large asian man in a white tee-shirt and exposed arm tattoos stepped in and paused upon see in me. The door shut behind him and he stopped before the counter. With a forced close mouthed smile I greeted him, "Hello, what can I help you with today sir?" He stared down at me, his height only made more prominent due to my wheelchair bound form. "I am Kenta, you have a order waiting for me." I nodded and turned my chair and rolled the two feet to the large boxed television. With a grunt I lifted it onto my lap and set it on the counter. "Here you go Mr. Kenta, I was told you paid in advance, and will that be all for today?"
His narrowed eyes trailed down from my bagged eyes to my grey hoodie and grease stained apron, and to my wheelchair. My eyes fearfully flicked to his tattoos and back, back to his face, shit he was watching me. He snorted and I swear I expected smoke to come out but he only grabbed his heavy boxed television under one arm and walked out. The jingling bell on the door as it closed signaled the second I sagged in my chair. 'Oh shit, I live in the same apartment as the Empire 88 Valkyries and work as Lung's T.V. repair guy.' The image of Lung coming back some time later cause his Tv breaks during an anime, to rip me limb from limb pops in my head. 'You interrupted Princess Luna's transformation scene.' And then I would be on fire and dead.
The door jingled and I looked up and sighed, it was just Mr. Jing. "I am back, how did you like manning the counter?" I smiled, "Ok, only three people came, two people came into look around and Kenta stopped by for his television." Mr. Jing nodded, "Good, I take over, go fix some more soon to be stock." Nodding I rolled into the back room and got back to repairing electronics. Shaky hands slowed me down for the rest of the day.
With gritted teeth I pushed myself from Jings Electronics towards where I hid my power armor. Arms strained and flexed, pain and almost a runner's high hit me when I slowed down halfway to the boat graveyard. I needed to get stronger, needed to get better to survive in this world. I got to the graveyard in record time and rolled with noodle arms into the half submerged ship. I rolled up to the back of my armor and set the tooth to the side before I hurried to get in. Opening and closing armor and I'm standing once more. Bending down I swipe up the tooth and hook it to my belt before grabbing the incomplete Recharger pistol to finish with the wiring and energy cell. A manic grin never left my face as parts just seemed to fit together.
==Tick Tick Tick==
Hours after the sun had set I was wandering the boat graveyard in search of useful scrap. Power armored feet clomping along, the scrap helmet protecting my identity and an old torn canvas ship sail was sloppily stitched into a poncho to hide the gaps in the power armor frame. Stopping before a sheet of steel in not horrible condition I clipped my finished Recharger pistol under my poncho and proceed to fold the sheet of metal like paper into a easier to carry size. The screams of tortured metal is probably why I didn't hear the footsteps or voice until I was finished. "Unidentified Parahuman, state your-" The rest of the sentence was drowned out by me dropping the metal sheet with a crash and pulling the Tooth and brandishing it at the voice.
I turned my head in time to see a man in midnight blue power armor with silver lines holding a halberd to his side, about fifteen feet away from me. Lowering the Tooth I lean forward in a half crouch. "Armsmaster." My voice came out in a harsh mechanical tone void of emotion. (Sentry bot voice) He waited a few seconds before starting again, "Unidentified Parahuman, state your reason for causing a disruption in this area." I slowly come out of half crouch and slip the Tooth under my poncho. "Clearing scrap." I turn away from him and pick up the heavy sheet of folded steel under one arm and turn to look at the Tinker, before I walk away toward where I had been stacking scrap steel. My clomps are followed by quieter more efficient footsteps and he matches pace with me.
He follows in silence for a few seconds before speaking, "What are your intentions in this city?" He paused as if waiting for my name and I obliged him. "Designation: Atom. Mission: Technological advancement through removal of unwanted refuse. Examples: Discarded scrap and intrusive non law abiding citizens." Armsmaster seemed to take my strange way of speaking in stride, "The Protectorate could provide tinker materials so you would not need to gather junk to advance your tinkering." I stopped before the stack of steel and set the sheet I was carrying down, "Negative: Protectorates probability of mission hindrance: ninety seven percent." He countered quickly, "What makes you think the Protectorate would hold you back?"
I stayed quiet for several seconds while I arranged the folded steel plates. "Designation: Atom, selfish and have no urge to join conflict, Rogue status preferred." I turned back to face Armsmaster, "This unit is open to trade with other Tinkers and will be available to aid in future crises. Good Day." I turned and began walking back the way I came to get one more load of steel for the night, I would need enough to make my power armor more protective. Armsamater left the same way he must have come in leaving to the south and the sound of a motorcycle roaring into the distance.
==Tick Tick Tick==
The sun was slowly rising over the bay as I hammered the last piece of torso armor into shape. All the separate components were laid out before me, ready to be dunked in the same chemical bath I had made for the frame. After treatment I could start assembling the parts to make the torso. The large plates of steel had been wire brushed down to a dark silver finish, I'll paint them after treatment. Leaning back on my heels I sighed and began cleaning up. Another all nighter, I need to get some sleep soon.
As those thoughts went through my mind I was already gently setting the thick sheets of steel into the chemical bath. Clapping my hands together with a click of steel on steel I walk over to the empty spot next to my wheelchair. Sagging in the frame I get ready to get out when a yawn forces me to close my eyes. "Urg, sleep later, I'll get some tonight." Thumbing the switch I push myself out and keep a hold of the struts of the frame and ease myself into my wheelchair.
Unlocking the wheels I check the chemical bath and judge it to finish some time in the afternoon. Tiredly I sweep my gaze over the tabletop with scattered papers filled with designs, need computer parts for that, need more radioactive material, more glass. Another yawn interrupts me and I slip the Tooth into my hoodie and Recharger pistol in next to it. Rolling out of the shipwreck I pause in the sun. I need a desktop computer, copper wire, and some surgical stainless steel scalpels. All the other parts are already set up in my apartment, ready for final checks. I roll in a daze back home and ride the elevator up fumble with my keys and make it inside.
Closing the door behind me I lock it and look at the pile of machine components sitting on the table in front of the couch. Seeing they haven't been disturbed I roll about, getting washed up and preparing breakfast and lunch. A half hour later and fed, I rolled on to work after locking my door behind me. I rolled out of the lobby passing one of the twins, "Mornin." She greeted me back but I missed her reply due to me being already out the door. The cold March air brushed against my face as I rolled to work.
A few hours and a dozen fixed electronics later the building began to shake. Mr. Jing came in the back room in a rush. "Hide under table, Nazis." I blearily blinked at him and was dragged out of my chair and under the table by my arm. Every shake was bigger than the last and I thought the ceiling would come down when I heard plaster crack. Soon the shakes began to lessen and fade away. We waited a few seconds after we couldn't feel anymore shaking and Mr. Jing crawled out from under the table helping me back into my chair. "You said Nazis, so Empire… Great, does this happen often?" Mr. Jing shook his head, "Not often but happens, duck under cover, treat as earthquake, angry earthquake." We both hesitantly went back to work and minutes later we heard sirens scream past in the direction of the stomping giant Nazis.
Edit: Took ScottotheUnwise's advice and changed "I" to "This unit."
Last edited:
ScottotheUnwise
Verified Crack (fic) Dealer
- Location
- Mulberry, Fl
Like the feel for the story. Person oriented not conflict oriented, refreshing. Close to the conflict, but not jumping in hand over foot.
Ex: "This unit is open to trade with other Tinkers"
Not sure if you were going for the voice of the robot body from the Twelfth Dr. Who, but that's what I was reading it as.
After the rest of the speech the pattern feels like she should be using something other than "I" here.
Ex: "This unit is open to trade with other Tinkers"
Not sure if you were going for the voice of the robot body from the Twelfth Dr. Who, but that's what I was reading it as.
If you start getting call outs to Lung it'll be amusing. Even more so if you wind up repairing one of the white hats TV's.
ScottotheUnwise
Verified Crack (fic) Dealer
- Location
- Mulberry, Fl
target site
Fitting the power pack
I would probably stick with powerpack but the spellcheck is griping at me.
The biggest technical flaw of the story is you failing to start a new paragraph when you change speakers.
For example:
Is a garbled mess. It should read closer to this:
For example:
Is a garbled mess. It should read closer to this: