IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
You will like this Hero interlude, I can feel it.
-
Going forward, links to content from Twitter (now X) will no longer be embedded. Pre-existing links should not be affected.
Shining Example (WORM ORIGIN QUEST)
- Thread starter IKnowNothing
- Start date
You will like this Hero interlude, I can feel it.
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
So, here I am again, giving a quick update on everything that I can.
If you want to know where the quest is, I actually lost it in the pile of notes I've compiled for finals. I thought I could do both, get the chapter out and study, but that was clearly a bad call on my part.
Once everything is over in a week, I'll be back into the swing of things and we'll get to the first big thing by Christmas. Hopefully.
For the most part, coming up next you'll guys have.
A Hero interlude.
An Interlude in London (The city if it wasn't obvious.)
And the actual chapter, where you're hanging out with Harbinger and Contessa in a near ghost town. Good times ahead.
Anyway, that's all for now, I've got to get back to the grind.
If you want to know where the quest is, I actually lost it in the pile of notes I've compiled for finals. I thought I could do both, get the chapter out and study, but that was clearly a bad call on my part.
Once everything is over in a week, I'll be back into the swing of things and we'll get to the first big thing by Christmas. Hopefully.
For the most part, coming up next you'll guys have.
A Hero interlude.
An Interlude in London (The city if it wasn't obvious.)
And the actual chapter, where you're hanging out with Harbinger and Contessa in a near ghost town. Good times ahead.
Anyway, that's all for now, I've got to get back to the grind.
- Location
- Leeds
Curses and here was me hoping for an educational tour of the life and times of gut bacteria in a person called London.
Good luck on your finals remember, the better you do the less time you'll have to write for us in the future.
Terran Imperium
[French]
- Location
- Southern France
There is so much sarcasm in that sentence that I can't help but choke.
- Location
- Leeds
Thats what I was going for.
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
Small confession, I laughed harder than I really should have at this.
It was probably sleep deprivation.
I
...
thanks?
Last edited:
- Location
- Leeds
You are welcome of course.I
...
thanks?
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
... one of these days I'm going to find a reward for all the memes you've brought to this thread.
- Location
- Currently in the local dimension.
More memes.
- Location
- Leeds
Creating a new thread with a No Dark as Silvers allowed sign?
E: Hang on, this is a bond villain moment when he dumps his accountant in the piranha tank isn't it?
Last edited:
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
God I hope not.
But knowing me and my luck, it'll happen.
In before I make a sequel to this story named "From Shining Examples" and the first thing I do is tag you telling you to get out.
- Location
- Leeds
I can't remember the last time I knowingly disobeyed a sign and I don't intend to start now.In before I make a sequel to this story named "From Shining Examples" and the first thing I do is tag you telling you to get out.
Except traffic lights. They were made to be ignored. Willfully and at great risk to all others concerned.
The Man They Will Call Hero
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
October 12, 1986
Charles slowly twisted the wiring, and with a spark, he felt the metal pieces click into place, causing Cauldron's resident tinker to grin. He held up his creation, a small earbud barely bigger than a bb pellet.
Slowly, he pressed the bud up against his ear and felt everything fall silent. No wind, no creaking or clunking of metal. The entire world might as well have gone silent.
He pulled it back and felt himself grin from ear to ear.
"Son of a bitch, they work."
The feeling of joy is cut short.
His eyes narrow, and his vision goes hazy. His hand flies out, instinctively trying to catch him. Something gets knocked to the floor, and felt his fingers go slack.
Stability came eventually, a lot slower than it normally did, anyway. Charles rubbed the last of the haze out of his eye and managed to catch sight of the prototype.
Okay, maybe they were working a little too well.
Sure, they weren't finished yet, but he could go without a headache. Even if these things were the coolest tech he had managed to tinker with, migraines weren't something that he needed right now.
Output exceeding desired parameters.
Integrate dampeners by rerouting motor.
Create dampeners, integrate.
...Oh, was that it?
Sweet!
Barely another weeks work. Just a few days to make changes to the code, an hour or two for the wiring, and the power levels should balance out to a more sustainable level.
Hopefully.
Charles pushed the thought aside, everything he made always worked. Hopefully, it worked well enough that it didn't need batteries.
The last thing they needed was another David, this time with a constant headache if his tech couldn't keep up with the output.
Poor guy would probably break the building if he wasn't careful.
He reached down and grabbed the pellet. Before he threw it into the charging port as quickly as he could. Subtlety and care could jump off a cliff.
Charles didn't care if it took another hour or another day, one migraine was enough for one lifetime. He raised a hand and did a quick tap on his ear. The cold feeling of metal shot through his ear as his brain finally remembered there was something there.They were old models, one of the first things he built. But all his models did was lower the sound a bit. The new ones? Those guys were supposed to block out any frequency that could remotely exist outside the human body. Puts everything to near zero, but not completely. Unless you could cheat your way through listening, you'd send your inner ear into a tumble that would drop you faster than a flashbang.
Charles tilted his head.
Hey, that's not a bad idea. Flashbang frequency?
...
Sound bang?
...
No, Frequency grenades.
…He could make that.
Charles reached back and once he found the armrest he let himself drop into his chair. A quick push and the wheels carried him in front of a small computer. The poor thing was in desperate need of a tune-up, but one project at a time. He dropped his hands in front of the keyboard and his fingers flew across the keys. He never actually thought about what he typed, the screen just filled itself with what was necessary after a while.
Best part of his power, hands down.
Now if he could only manage that whole 'sleep is for the weak' thing that Fortuna does.
The computer rings and the screen flashes a compiling icon. Charles quickly glanced at the clock.
Barely past seven, he was early.
He cast a quick glance at the pellet, sitting in its port as the first batch of coding made its way in.
Charles ran a hand over his face, leaning back as far as his chair would let him. He could keep going with the coding, better late than never. But then again, the actual design wasn't finished, and he still needed to make a second one.
Charles looked at his computer, still flashing the icon.
He reached absentmindedly across his desk, grabbing the first piece of metal his fingers could take a hold of. He grabbed something, and he pulled back a circuit board.
Perfect.
A little tinkering and there, and he could get the base out of this.
Hopefully, it doesn't blow up, not like the last three.
Charles felt his fingers stop along the board as a thought crashed into him.
He really shouldn't tell the new guy his track record when he got these things.
His inner musings were interrupted when the screen on his computer flashed green, replacing the icon with a warning.
Visitor incoming.
Charles looked up from his work just in time to see the doors of the elevator slide open. The lovely Ms Costa-Brown took a step out, clad in the suit she had gotten from Contessa. The rip on her shoulder was enough to make Charles' smile falter a bit though. She must have just gotten back from a mission.
Letting the smile come back, the tinker waved.
"Hey Rebecca," Charles called, "Sorry about the mess, I started working and well," he gestures around the tables and rusted scrap, "you get the idea."
Rebecca laughed good-naturedly, so score one for the Tinker.
"If something was actually clean, then I'd be surprised," she said, forcing a frown out of Charles, "I don't think this place has ever been clean anyway."
Charles frowned and glanced around. As much as he didn't want to admit it, this place always was, is, and always will be, a mess. He called it his workshop, but if he was being honest, a better title would've been Organized Junkyard.
Since day one, it had been a dumping ground for everything that Charles might need or had requested. He had the equivalent of a superstore's worth of electronics and metal around him all the time. Piles would appear and disappear faster than you'd expect, but it never really evened out.
Hell, even after he made the entire game room and the elevator system he barely saw a difference. In the rare case that something did get low, Contessa always dropped by to open a portal and deliver a few new pieces.
Really, the only time this place had been clean was the day that Charles moved in.
Not that he was going to admit that.
"I swear this place has been clean. I saw the floor a month ago!"
He paused.
"It's white, by the way."
Rebecca gave him an incredibly flat look.
"It's white everywhere."
"You don't know that," Charles argued, "Have you checked every floor?"
"...why?"
"Then you don't know for sure."
Rebecca rolled her eyes and after taking a few steps took a seat on Charles' desk. He didn't mind, he only had one chair in this place anyway and it wasn't like anyone was going to dent a steel table.
Unintentionally, of course, everyone here could probably dent steel if they tried hard enough.
"So, what brings you to my little workshop?" he asked as he ripped another compressor free from a circuit board.
Rebecca reached up and pulled out her earbud.
"Just a tune-up," she said, offering him the small piece of tech.
Charles took the bud without looking up from his work. He set the board down and grabbed the nearest screwdriver and spare part. This time, he came back with an old radio.
Not exactly what he wanted, but it would work.
Ripping off the base, Charles set to work salvaging the parts he would need. Rebecca barely paid him any mind, not that he minded if she did. Another set of eyes watching you for mistakes was never a bad thing.
What was a bad thing, is when those extra pairs of eyes start being distracting. Charles tried, he really tried, but he couldn't stop glancing at Rebecca.
For reasons beyond the obvious.
She shifted in her seat, her fingers drummed against her arm, even her foot started tapping. Charles set his tools down and tore himself away from the project.
"You alright there, Rebecca?" he asked as offhandedly as he could.
The brute nodded, but her eyes never leave the floor.
"Yeah… just thinking."
"Thinking?" Charles asked, "Better stop yourself before you get an idea, then we're all fucked."
Rebecca rolled her eyes and forced a small smile.
"Very funny."
Charles waited for her to continue, and when she didn't, he put down his tools and leaned back in his chair.
"You wanna talk about it?" he offered.
Rebecca shook her head, forcing Charles to lean his head back and make a show out of groaning for all he was worth.
"Rebecca, I can't work when someone's moping on my desk. What's on your mind?"
Rebecca didn't say a thing, her arm reaching up to steady her shoulder as best it could.
"It's… it's been two months."
Charles' eyes softened.
He should have known that was the problem.
"Rebecca, his vitals are stable." He said far more reassured than he actually felt, "If anything, he's just sleeping, nothing's killing him."
"I know!" Rebecca insisted, only for the spirit to die just as quickly as it came.
"I'm just… still not used to him being gone," she whispered.
Charles stared at the strongest woman he ever had the pleasure of meeting. The woman who could bench press a mountain couldn't even look him in the eye.
"Rebecca, he's fine," Charles repeated.
"But he's been under for so long."
Charles did his best to keep his smile up, but it did little to stop the concern from snaking its way in.
"I did the best I could with his monitoring equipment," he said, "If something was wrong, we'd know."
"Even your tech can miss things, Charles," she pointed out, "And just because he's fine physically doesn't mean something else hasn't happened. And if something has, for some reason I don't get to know about it! All I get to know is that this isn't normal!" she rants, letting her fingers dig a little into the steel.
It groaned in agony, but Rebecca didn't seem to notice.
"I mean, there's demi-god a few doors down and a perfect precog, but just because agents work in ways we don't understand, no one can give me a straight answer?! For all we know his agent just decided to shut him down, and if that happens..."
Charles held up a hand, cutting the brute off before she could go any further.
Honestly he was surprised that it worked.
"Rebecca, calm down," Charles said, "People have been in comas for a lot longer than him."
"Normal comas," Rebecca stressed.
Charles shrugs his shoulders in defeat.
"... ok yeah."
The second he admitted it, Rebecca's mood sours again. He watched as she crossed her arms, and her eyes lost all the focus they had. For a second, some part of Charles told him to let her sulk, finish his work and leave it be.
But he never listened to that part of him before, no point in starting now.
He slid his chair over and reached a hand for her shoulder. She twitched at the contact, focus returning to her eyes as Charles kept the contact for as long as she needed it.
"Hey," he whispered, "he'll still be your friend."
He brought his hand back and risked everything by sliding back to his station. Slowly, Rebecca seemed to soften. She let her hands fall to her side, and she let out a long sigh.
"Sorry," she whispered.
"Don't worry about it,"
He picked up the tools and got back to work, this time, without distractions. Fifteen minutes passed faster than Charles could blink, but at least the earbud was back at full capacity. All it took was a few new wires to replace the ones that shorted out, and a little buffer to put the shell back into shape.
"It had a little damage from air friction, but I made a few adjustments to the outer coating, should fix everything right up," he said throwing the bud back.
Rebecca caught it with one hand, putting it back in her ear a second later.
"Thanks,"
"Anytime," he said with a smile, "If you need anything else, just ask."
"I'll keep that in mind," she says, returning the smile with her own.
She did a quick hop off his desk and heads towards the elevator. Charles watched her walk for the first few steps, then his eyes wandered back to his desk.
Alright, back to work.
He took the pellet and turned it in his fingers. Setting it to the side, he clicked a few keys on his computer, bringing up the blueprints.
So, he needed another line of copper wiring for the processors. He glanced around the desk and saw a whole lot of metal, but a distinct lack of copper. Where the hell did he place that ball of extra copper? If Manton took it without telling him again, he swore to god he would make the walls of his lab continuously blare Africa.
"Actually," Rebecca called, making Charles jump in his seat.
She looks back to him, her eyes cloudy as she mulls the words over in her head.
"There is one thing that you could help with."
Charles drummed his fingers on his desk as Rebecca stood by him. He took a deep breath and put his hands together.
"Let me get this straight," he started, "You want me to ignore what Doctor Mother, Manton, and Contessa, told me I should never do?"
Rebecca fidgetted at the question, but slowly, she lets herself nod. If Charles was alone, he might have slammed his head against his desk. Manton might have a stick shoved up his ass and Doctor Mother had a mile long list wrong with her, ignoring them out of teenage spite was a necessity at this point.
But Fortuna… she'd done more than enough already.
But then, so had Rebecca.
He offered help, and right now, she couldn't look more desperate even if she tried.
Guess he's going to ignore that voice again.
"Give me an hour," he said.
He turned to his computer and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smile.
Cracking his knuckles, Charles let himself lean back in his chair. A quick check of the clock told him that it was almost 8, almost an hour after his talk with Rebecca.
Stretching his arms, he let his ear dig into his shoulder, forcing a beep out of the hidden earbud.
"Everything's almost set up, but I can only risk a half hour," he said.
"It's more than enough," came Rebecca's voice, "Thanks."
"Just give me a ring whenever you want to head in again,"
The line goes dead in a burst of static and from his computer, Charles typed in a few quick commands. The screen flashed white, and two windows popped up. They were feeds of the exact same room. Letting his fingers fly, the feed shifted as the camera forced itself out of its stationary position to look away from a clock.
The feed jumped a bit as the feed tried to keep up with the camera. It jumped once, then twice, then it finally rested on a view of the resident golden boy asleep in his bed.
Something started to ring in the back of his head, but he pushed it aside as a prompt appeared on the feed.
Loop footage?
Yes.
He clicked enter, and the right-hand feed shut itself off, its purpose complete. A few seconds later, the left the audio managed to pick up the squeak of a door opening. Rebecca came into frame a few moments later, all but tip-toeing so she didn't make any sound. She circled the bed and took a seat on the covers taking great care not to touch anything.
He watched as she tucked a bit of hair behind her ear and smiled softly down at her friend.
"Hey Alex, I guess it's my turn to come to you, isn't it?"
Charles felt something twist a little in his stomach. A smile came to him, but it felt sour. Closing out of the program, he pulled the blueprints back to the center screen.
Where was he on that project?
Oh right, copper wiring.
Charles slowly twisted the wiring, and with a spark, he felt the metal pieces click into place, causing Cauldron's resident tinker to grin. He held up his creation, a small earbud barely bigger than a bb pellet.
Slowly, he pressed the bud up against his ear and felt everything fall silent. No wind, no creaking or clunking of metal. The entire world might as well have gone silent.
He pulled it back and felt himself grin from ear to ear.
"Son of a bitch, they work."
The feeling of joy is cut short.
His eyes narrow, and his vision goes hazy. His hand flies out, instinctively trying to catch him. Something gets knocked to the floor, and felt his fingers go slack.
Stability came eventually, a lot slower than it normally did, anyway. Charles rubbed the last of the haze out of his eye and managed to catch sight of the prototype.
Okay, maybe they were working a little too well.
Sure, they weren't finished yet, but he could go without a headache. Even if these things were the coolest tech he had managed to tinker with, migraines weren't something that he needed right now.
Output exceeding desired parameters.
Integrate dampeners by rerouting motor.
Create dampeners, integrate.
...Oh, was that it?
Sweet!
Barely another weeks work. Just a few days to make changes to the code, an hour or two for the wiring, and the power levels should balance out to a more sustainable level.
Hopefully.
Charles pushed the thought aside, everything he made always worked. Hopefully, it worked well enough that it didn't need batteries.
The last thing they needed was another David, this time with a constant headache if his tech couldn't keep up with the output.
Poor guy would probably break the building if he wasn't careful.
He reached down and grabbed the pellet. Before he threw it into the charging port as quickly as he could. Subtlety and care could jump off a cliff.
Charles didn't care if it took another hour or another day, one migraine was enough for one lifetime. He raised a hand and did a quick tap on his ear. The cold feeling of metal shot through his ear as his brain finally remembered there was something there.They were old models, one of the first things he built. But all his models did was lower the sound a bit. The new ones? Those guys were supposed to block out any frequency that could remotely exist outside the human body. Puts everything to near zero, but not completely. Unless you could cheat your way through listening, you'd send your inner ear into a tumble that would drop you faster than a flashbang.
Charles tilted his head.
Hey, that's not a bad idea. Flashbang frequency?
...
Sound bang?
...
No, Frequency grenades.
…He could make that.
Charles reached back and once he found the armrest he let himself drop into his chair. A quick push and the wheels carried him in front of a small computer. The poor thing was in desperate need of a tune-up, but one project at a time. He dropped his hands in front of the keyboard and his fingers flew across the keys. He never actually thought about what he typed, the screen just filled itself with what was necessary after a while.
Best part of his power, hands down.
Now if he could only manage that whole 'sleep is for the weak' thing that Fortuna does.
The computer rings and the screen flashes a compiling icon. Charles quickly glanced at the clock.
Barely past seven, he was early.
He cast a quick glance at the pellet, sitting in its port as the first batch of coding made its way in.
Charles ran a hand over his face, leaning back as far as his chair would let him. He could keep going with the coding, better late than never. But then again, the actual design wasn't finished, and he still needed to make a second one.
Charles looked at his computer, still flashing the icon.
He reached absentmindedly across his desk, grabbing the first piece of metal his fingers could take a hold of. He grabbed something, and he pulled back a circuit board.
Perfect.
A little tinkering and there, and he could get the base out of this.
Hopefully, it doesn't blow up, not like the last three.
Charles felt his fingers stop along the board as a thought crashed into him.
He really shouldn't tell the new guy his track record when he got these things.
His inner musings were interrupted when the screen on his computer flashed green, replacing the icon with a warning.
Visitor incoming.
Charles looked up from his work just in time to see the doors of the elevator slide open. The lovely Ms Costa-Brown took a step out, clad in the suit she had gotten from Contessa. The rip on her shoulder was enough to make Charles' smile falter a bit though. She must have just gotten back from a mission.
Letting the smile come back, the tinker waved.
"Hey Rebecca," Charles called, "Sorry about the mess, I started working and well," he gestures around the tables and rusted scrap, "you get the idea."
Rebecca laughed good-naturedly, so score one for the Tinker.
"If something was actually clean, then I'd be surprised," she said, forcing a frown out of Charles, "I don't think this place has ever been clean anyway."
Charles frowned and glanced around. As much as he didn't want to admit it, this place always was, is, and always will be, a mess. He called it his workshop, but if he was being honest, a better title would've been Organized Junkyard.
Since day one, it had been a dumping ground for everything that Charles might need or had requested. He had the equivalent of a superstore's worth of electronics and metal around him all the time. Piles would appear and disappear faster than you'd expect, but it never really evened out.
Hell, even after he made the entire game room and the elevator system he barely saw a difference. In the rare case that something did get low, Contessa always dropped by to open a portal and deliver a few new pieces.
Really, the only time this place had been clean was the day that Charles moved in.
Not that he was going to admit that.
"I swear this place has been clean. I saw the floor a month ago!"
He paused.
"It's white, by the way."
Rebecca gave him an incredibly flat look.
"It's white everywhere."
"You don't know that," Charles argued, "Have you checked every floor?"
"...why?"
"Then you don't know for sure."
Rebecca rolled her eyes and after taking a few steps took a seat on Charles' desk. He didn't mind, he only had one chair in this place anyway and it wasn't like anyone was going to dent a steel table.
Unintentionally, of course, everyone here could probably dent steel if they tried hard enough.
"So, what brings you to my little workshop?" he asked as he ripped another compressor free from a circuit board.
Rebecca reached up and pulled out her earbud.
"Just a tune-up," she said, offering him the small piece of tech.
Charles took the bud without looking up from his work. He set the board down and grabbed the nearest screwdriver and spare part. This time, he came back with an old radio.
Not exactly what he wanted, but it would work.
Ripping off the base, Charles set to work salvaging the parts he would need. Rebecca barely paid him any mind, not that he minded if she did. Another set of eyes watching you for mistakes was never a bad thing.
What was a bad thing, is when those extra pairs of eyes start being distracting. Charles tried, he really tried, but he couldn't stop glancing at Rebecca.
For reasons beyond the obvious.
She shifted in her seat, her fingers drummed against her arm, even her foot started tapping. Charles set his tools down and tore himself away from the project.
"You alright there, Rebecca?" he asked as offhandedly as he could.
The brute nodded, but her eyes never leave the floor.
"Yeah… just thinking."
"Thinking?" Charles asked, "Better stop yourself before you get an idea, then we're all fucked."
Rebecca rolled her eyes and forced a small smile.
"Very funny."
Charles waited for her to continue, and when she didn't, he put down his tools and leaned back in his chair.
"You wanna talk about it?" he offered.
Rebecca shook her head, forcing Charles to lean his head back and make a show out of groaning for all he was worth.
"Rebecca, I can't work when someone's moping on my desk. What's on your mind?"
Rebecca didn't say a thing, her arm reaching up to steady her shoulder as best it could.
"It's… it's been two months."
Charles' eyes softened.
He should have known that was the problem.
"Rebecca, his vitals are stable." He said far more reassured than he actually felt, "If anything, he's just sleeping, nothing's killing him."
"I know!" Rebecca insisted, only for the spirit to die just as quickly as it came.
"I'm just… still not used to him being gone," she whispered.
Charles stared at the strongest woman he ever had the pleasure of meeting. The woman who could bench press a mountain couldn't even look him in the eye.
"Rebecca, he's fine," Charles repeated.
"But he's been under for so long."
Charles did his best to keep his smile up, but it did little to stop the concern from snaking its way in.
"I did the best I could with his monitoring equipment," he said, "If something was wrong, we'd know."
"Even your tech can miss things, Charles," she pointed out, "And just because he's fine physically doesn't mean something else hasn't happened. And if something has, for some reason I don't get to know about it! All I get to know is that this isn't normal!" she rants, letting her fingers dig a little into the steel.
It groaned in agony, but Rebecca didn't seem to notice.
"I mean, there's demi-god a few doors down and a perfect precog, but just because agents work in ways we don't understand, no one can give me a straight answer?! For all we know his agent just decided to shut him down, and if that happens..."
Charles held up a hand, cutting the brute off before she could go any further.
Honestly he was surprised that it worked.
"Rebecca, calm down," Charles said, "People have been in comas for a lot longer than him."
"Normal comas," Rebecca stressed.
Charles shrugs his shoulders in defeat.
"... ok yeah."
The second he admitted it, Rebecca's mood sours again. He watched as she crossed her arms, and her eyes lost all the focus they had. For a second, some part of Charles told him to let her sulk, finish his work and leave it be.
But he never listened to that part of him before, no point in starting now.
He slid his chair over and reached a hand for her shoulder. She twitched at the contact, focus returning to her eyes as Charles kept the contact for as long as she needed it.
"Hey," he whispered, "he'll still be your friend."
He brought his hand back and risked everything by sliding back to his station. Slowly, Rebecca seemed to soften. She let her hands fall to her side, and she let out a long sigh.
"Sorry," she whispered.
"Don't worry about it,"
He picked up the tools and got back to work, this time, without distractions. Fifteen minutes passed faster than Charles could blink, but at least the earbud was back at full capacity. All it took was a few new wires to replace the ones that shorted out, and a little buffer to put the shell back into shape.
"It had a little damage from air friction, but I made a few adjustments to the outer coating, should fix everything right up," he said throwing the bud back.
Rebecca caught it with one hand, putting it back in her ear a second later.
"Thanks,"
"Anytime," he said with a smile, "If you need anything else, just ask."
"I'll keep that in mind," she says, returning the smile with her own.
She did a quick hop off his desk and heads towards the elevator. Charles watched her walk for the first few steps, then his eyes wandered back to his desk.
Alright, back to work.
He took the pellet and turned it in his fingers. Setting it to the side, he clicked a few keys on his computer, bringing up the blueprints.
So, he needed another line of copper wiring for the processors. He glanced around the desk and saw a whole lot of metal, but a distinct lack of copper. Where the hell did he place that ball of extra copper? If Manton took it without telling him again, he swore to god he would make the walls of his lab continuously blare Africa.
"Actually," Rebecca called, making Charles jump in his seat.
She looks back to him, her eyes cloudy as she mulls the words over in her head.
"There is one thing that you could help with."
Charles drummed his fingers on his desk as Rebecca stood by him. He took a deep breath and put his hands together.
"Let me get this straight," he started, "You want me to ignore what Doctor Mother, Manton, and Contessa, told me I should never do?"
Rebecca fidgetted at the question, but slowly, she lets herself nod. If Charles was alone, he might have slammed his head against his desk. Manton might have a stick shoved up his ass and Doctor Mother had a mile long list wrong with her, ignoring them out of teenage spite was a necessity at this point.
But Fortuna… she'd done more than enough already.
But then, so had Rebecca.
He offered help, and right now, she couldn't look more desperate even if she tried.
Guess he's going to ignore that voice again.
"Give me an hour," he said.
He turned to his computer and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smile.
Cracking his knuckles, Charles let himself lean back in his chair. A quick check of the clock told him that it was almost 8, almost an hour after his talk with Rebecca.
Stretching his arms, he let his ear dig into his shoulder, forcing a beep out of the hidden earbud.
"Everything's almost set up, but I can only risk a half hour," he said.
"It's more than enough," came Rebecca's voice, "Thanks."
"Just give me a ring whenever you want to head in again,"
The line goes dead in a burst of static and from his computer, Charles typed in a few quick commands. The screen flashed white, and two windows popped up. They were feeds of the exact same room. Letting his fingers fly, the feed shifted as the camera forced itself out of its stationary position to look away from a clock.
The feed jumped a bit as the feed tried to keep up with the camera. It jumped once, then twice, then it finally rested on a view of the resident golden boy asleep in his bed.
Something started to ring in the back of his head, but he pushed it aside as a prompt appeared on the feed.
Loop footage?
Yes.
He clicked enter, and the right-hand feed shut itself off, its purpose complete. A few seconds later, the left the audio managed to pick up the squeak of a door opening. Rebecca came into frame a few moments later, all but tip-toeing so she didn't make any sound. She circled the bed and took a seat on the covers taking great care not to touch anything.
He watched as she tucked a bit of hair behind her ear and smiled softly down at her friend.
"Hey Alex, I guess it's my turn to come to you, isn't it?"
Charles felt something twist a little in his stomach. A smile came to him, but it felt sour. Closing out of the program, he pulled the blueprints back to the center screen.
Where was he on that project?
Oh right, copper wiring.
Last edited:
- Location
- Reno Nv
So, time to get that SL with Charles before everything goes to shit.
- Location
- Leeds
Hi can.
How did the finals go btw?
Demojay
Yes, let's put an end to this
- Location
- UK
there's a demi-god
Thanks for the update and I hope your exams went well.
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
I've still got one more and I also hate you.
It's edited, it's finished, I'm going back to studying.
- Location
- Leeds
Not a fan of dad jokes? Too bad you're on the internet where they are the highest form of wit.
Because they arrrrrr
- Location
- Currently in the local dimension.
We sniped Charles' potential waifu, and I can't feel anything about it besides a sense of smugness.
That aside, I like Charles, we should keep him from dying.
- Location
- Currently in the local dimension.
Nah, that's not true in the slightest, but it would mean using a power slot to do so.
- Location
- Mists of Albion
Hey! We were here first in this time line!!! And in the canon time line we were the reason Rebecca turned sociopath, as apparently Alex died a couple days before she took the vial. Meaning she had no reason not to let herself become consumed by her powers. Hero wanted her, but Alex's death traumatised her to the extent she never accepted Charles.
But seriously, Charles is a good bro. I hope we can stop his death this time around. Hell, I hope we can get him to make some of the tech he didn't in the original time line. There was so much he could've done that he didn't! So much wasted potential!
- Location
- Currently in the local dimension.
The fact that we win the waifu race even in death only makes me smugger.
High-end Tinkers are like that, the longer they stick around, the more and more bullshit they become.
- Location
- nowhere
The guy we met in the previous chapter is the Number Man? Because he's supposed to be a kid right now, according to WoG both he and Jack Slash were no older than 12 when they killed King (And considering that Greyboy was also part of the S9 at the time, King gives me some really creepy pedo vibes).