As a minor apology for the wait until the next update, here's an interlude from Patreon, posted with the permission of its members:
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A Penny Of Your Thoughts
Justice. Fortune. Wrath.
According to many proverbs, each of these concepts was blind, each for their own reasons. Justice blinded herself out of dire necessity, her impartiality sacrosanct. Fortune stumbled randomly, bestowing her favors on the deserving and the undeserving alike. Wrath, on the other hand, was indiscriminate and apathetic, dealing out ruin without regard.
As Penelope sat on the rocky precipice of a cliffside, the relentless waves of seawater roiling and dashing against the towering granite spires many dozen feet below, she considered.
Anger churned in her mind. An ember, its smoldering illuminating corners of herself she'd never known about. Every time she thought about the Engine, it was almost like a fan blew a burst of wind onto the flames, whipping them into a frenzy, and each time it happened, it corroded her incrementally, every thought of revenge like an enticing gateway to further, even darker contemplation. She was cognizant her fantasies veered into treacherous territory, but the weight of her rage seemed to numb her to the consequences.
Anger was useful, or so her mom said, once. It stemmed from profound disappointment. The shocking realization that something essential didn't work, often accompanied by the determination and desire to immediately right the error. To hammer the world into rectitude.
Anger in excess was, much as anything in excess, a pathway to evil.
It wasn't an entirely negative emotion, as without at least some amount of righteous anger, the maintenance of justice would be almost impossible: no voice would even care to cry out for the latter without the former. In that sense, Justice and Wrath were like close friends.
It seemed so oddly appropriate the world she'd be on was named Fortuna, then. Everything around her felt distinctly blind, including herself.
Once, during a Christmas dinner, back when Penelope was thirteen, the topic of Enrollment and superheroics came up. Such discussions were common among the members and ex-members of the New York Defenders, although they were sometimes banned on special occassions to avoid dampening the festive mood. That once, they weren't.
During the conversation, there was something Uncle Ken referred to as the, 'drive to escalate,' mentioned as Aunt Sarah was passing him the Cobb salad.
All Enrolled were rewarded for strict adherence to both Theme and Role. The details weren't commonly known, especially among civilians, although Penelope was taught about Enrollment from an early age, once her parents realized she didn't inherit any of their powers - something that alluded to being chosen by the Educator, or at least as close as one could come to being chosen by him. As the Enrolled managed successes and spread their influence, their Thematics also spread, and they all became more powerful as a result.
It was the most common avenue of growth available to them after graduation, once the guiding hand of the Educator was no longer accessible. And so came the drive.
The drive came once the addiction, the sheer will to power and its limitless imposition, surpassed an Enrolled's common sense and interpersonal connections: once they sunk into a Role so deep they embodied it more than anything else. More character than human.
It rarely happened during the customary three years at the Academy, although there were fringe cases. It mostly occurred afterwards, once they realized their vaunted power no longer sufficed against the Enrolled who'd had years to prepare and set down their own Themes.
As a result, other Enrolled were also incentivized to make sacrifices, even if not necessarily of themselves, in order to become more powerful faster and to match the madmen who desired to change the world into one ruled by their own Thematics. Even if one didn't want to compete, often, their hand was forced. A race towards the bottom scenario.
She wondered if the Engine also felt that drive, that incentive to sacrifice. To sacrifice her own morals at an altar of revenge, in the name of not being cheated out of more power later on. It made a twisted kind of sense for someone with keen perspicacity to predict the need ahead of time.
Or maybe she was simply rotten down to the core, a soul tainted on every level.
Penelope's hand found a small rock, clenching around its obdurate shell, every iota of force poured into the hold. Angry, she reinforced it as much as she could, as if to crush the stone. Her wrist started to shake, excessive force attempting to break the unbreakable.
After a minute of fruitless struggle, she finally let go, hurling the rock into the sea. As if one meaningless pebble might change something against the endless scale of those waters.
She exhaled, uncertain why she'd even done that. It didn't make her feel any better, didn't bring any modicum of solace.
"Damn," Harrison remarked, gazing down from the cliff, visually measuring its height. She suppressed a startle at his sudden appearance. "Pen, are you sure this is safe?"
"How did you find me?" she demanded.
"Just looked," he said, with the most pronounced nonchalant shrug he could manage. "I'm the Chariot, and you're not even a kilometer away from the Academy Gate."
She pursed her lips, refusing to speak, and continued to gaze out at the endless waters. Harrison seemed to take this as an invitation to sit beside her, his posture slightly hunched, hands clasped between his knees. There was something endearingly awkward about him, swimming beneath the surface. The word 'dork' seemed apt.
After a minute more of oppressive silence, he mustered the courage to speak.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
"Talk? About what?"
"Don't play that card with me." His eyes acquired a strong, coercive air, as if the annoyance from within were spilling out. "I know how you feel about the cafeteria thing. I can see you're not the same. You don't talk to your clubmates anymore."
A single, almost tritely predictable response came out of her, although she felt the need to ask it nonetheless. "Why do you care?"
"I am your Vice Captain," he answered, like a dutiful soldier reporting to a superior. "As we stood on a cliff overlooking this world, I made an oath. A promise to work as hard as I can, to do everything in my power, to keep the Surveyors together. To keep them productive. So I am here to help you through your troubles, Captain."
"You're so cheesy."
He, at least, had the decency to look moderately ashamed.
"Anyway, seriously, what's bugging you? Are you upset you lost? She's an entire year ahead of us, and we've been here for only a month." Noticing from her bland look that he was unconvincing, Harrison changed tracks. "Listen, I know your dad's, like, the goat of all goats, but you can't expect to become a god instan-"
After a second, the contents of his sentence registered in her mind. "The goat of all goats?" she repeated, starting to laugh breathlessly.
"Uh, you know what I meant. I..."
He sat, awkwardly, starting to blush as Penelope continued to laugh. Every time she cracked open an eye to see his face, the expression of total embarrassment on it, she reburst into a new sequence of laughter. It went on for about a minute or so in total, with Penelope mostly smiling by the end.
"You're a funny guy, Harrison," she eventually said. A little more somber, she sighed and said, "No, I know all of that. I know I won't be able to do much on my own. I'm..."
She trailed off, needing a second to find the word. He looked almost as if there was a conflict within him, to offer one, or to stay respectfully shut.
She finally relented, saying, "I suppose I feel upset the world is the way it is."
"Nasty?"
"Yeah." For a long second, she thought. "There's no reason the Engine had to... to do something of that nature, even if she felt cheated. Fuck, I mean..."
"No, I think I understand," he interjected, raising a hand. "You wish people weren't so shit."
"Yeah."
His eyes roved over the churning seawater, for a long moment. There was profound contemplation in them, a deep thought slowly rising from the enigmatic abyss of his mind.
"There was a sad song in Shrek 2, that went," he sang with a somber, slow tone, "'People just ain't no good. I think that's well understood.' It really reminds me of this."
Her mouth abruptly hung open as she stared at him. She didn't even know what to say, and could only stare in confusion. Finally, she asked, with shock, "What?"
"I mean, yeah?" he said, almost defensively, looking at her as if accused of doing something improper. "Y'know, when the Fairy Godmother kicks them out of Far Far Away and they all drink at that bar? And the cat orders milk? And the bartendress is Cinderella's sister?"
Finally, she managed, with a half-broken voice, "Harrison, what the fuck are you talking about?"
"I mean, am I wrong?"
"I have no fucking idea," she answered with ever-increasing stupefaction, "I've never seen Shrek 2! I'm surprised you even brought it up."
"I watched a lot of movies with my dad," he said, once more defensively. "They come to mind often."
For about a second, Penelope was stuck between scoffing at him in sheer disbelief, and bursting out into a new concatenation of laughter. The paradox and sheer absurdity of everything he'd said ended up driving her into, somehow, doing both at once.
As she laughed, she coughed out the words, "You're such a dumbass."
"No need to remind me. Doctor said I'm so dumb it's terminal."
Between individual laughs, she managed, with amusement, to say, "You're counting the days, huh?"
"Yeah, one day, I'll say something so stupid it'll make a singularity of dumbness so... so, uh... so damn big it'll blow up the universe!" he stated. "Or something."
After calming down from the laughter, she looked out over the waters. They seemed less somber than before. Her entire mind felt like a muscle tired and fatigued after a day of exercise. She couldn't muster as much anger at the Engine, not even when she actively tried. It was almost like she'd ran out of it.
Wiping off a tear, Penelope said, "Thanks. Your... dumbness helped. Somehow."
"I recommend my services anytime, Cap'n," he said with a serious nod. "I'm specially trained in being an idiot, after all."
"Any other fun movies you've seen?"
"I loved Lord of the Rings," he said. "Why? Do you not watch movies?"
"Not especially, no," she answered. "What's Lord of the Rings about? Isn't that the one with, uh... the little guy? Fred?"
It was now his turn to suppress laughter. His face bloomed with barely-restrained amusement, but the words came out with a slight stutter of chuckles, "You mean Frodo?"
"Yeah, Frodo, whatever," she dismissed out of embarrassment. "What does he do?"
He willed himself into not laughing, although it took a visible amount of effort. "He's trying to throw an evil Ring into a volcano. And the Ring's sentient and trying to corrupt him to use its power for evil deeds. But Frodo doesn't fall, at least not immediately. He's not alone, 'cause he's got the Fellowship of the Ring to help out in the quest."
Penelope raised an eyebrow. "They named their Fellowship after the evil artifact?"
"Y-ees?" he said, stiltedly.
She shot him a stunned look. "Wow."
"Questionable?"
"A little!" she exclaimed. "It's almost like they were trying to curse themselves on purpose."
"...anyway," he said after a while. "Frodo and his friend Samwise are eventually saved by Gandalf, who comes swooping by with these huge eagles. Just after they threw the Ring in."
"Oh, I think I've heard of Gandalf. He's a wizard?"
"Yeah. And he's kind and charitable to people. Everyone loves him. He also gives out, like, really awesome advice." Harrison was silent for a moment, and then said, "I remember telling my dad I wished I could have a Gandalf in my life, and he shrugged and said, 'maybe you should try being someone else's Gandalf?' And, uh, I really took that to heart."
After that statement, Penelope was forced to reassess the way she thought about Harrison.
"Hm. I see..." she answered pertly, thinking for a second, attempting to find a new vector to steer the conversation. "Anyway, why's the Ring so evil?"
"It's bound to the will of Sauron." He said it almost dismissively, like an afterthought. The name Sauron was familiar in the most indefinite of ways. She remembered that 'sauroniops' was the name of a dinosaur, and dinosaurs were referred to as saurians, so...
"Like a dinosaur?"
"No!" he denied, with an almost palpable huff of disappointment. "No, like, uh... like a dark lord, you know? Mean, scary, and dressed in black armor."
"Oh, more like Darth Vader?"
"Something like that," he answered exasperatedly. His eyebrows raised as he parsed the question. "You know Darth Vader?"
"I said I don't especially watch a lot of movies," she said, cautiously. "It doesn't mean I've never seen any movies whatsoever."
"Huh, why not, though?"
"Just... not a lot of time for it," she answered saliently, trying not to dump too much of her issues on him all at once. "Life's busy when your parents are big damn heroes. I've spent a lot of my life training and preparing. Enrollment, or at least some kind of Thematic influence seemed inevitable, so my parents wanted me as ready as I could be. Don't misunderstand - I'm happy about it, especially since they were right in the end."
He nodded. "Well, if you wanna watch any movies together, let me know, alright? I'm planning on using my monthly request on maybe getting something to watch."
"I might take you up on that," she answered with a smile.
"Sweet," he said, and they eventually lapsed into silence, watching the waters together.
All my life, I've wanted to improve the lives of others, too, Penelope considered. Maybe I'm not as alone in this as I thought. Still, a lot of work ahead of me...
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Aspect: Truthseeker - Justice cannot prevail and win the day if corruption makes it stumble. Its footing must be certain and unshaken. Improves social insight and instinct, develops into the ability to detect lies and deceptions, and eventually see the 'Truth' of things. Grants super-senses. Applicable in physical combat by detecting feints and reading intent.
Current Level: 1
Next Level: 2 (500 XP)
20/5 vision, acute analysis of details, can magnify details within field of view and achieve other minor feats of unnatural perception. Passive insight can pierce most forms of non-magical deception and illusion; with effort, can unravel even supernatural tricks.
Technique: Blindfold (100 XP, Level 1) - Can inflict the self with a temporary form of complete blindness, transferring all benefits of Truthseeker to other senses and enhancing them to a moderate degree. All statements are analyzed with a discerning and smart lie detector, depth and shape of terrain read through vibrations, and even the most minute hints of poison or harmful toxin detected in portions of food.
Technique: Blindness (0 XP) - A Technique that cannot be disabled once acquired, refusing any form of restoration or sidestepping. It has the same effect as Blindfold of equivalent level, although enhanced, and it also halves the cost of future purchases of Truthseeker, and refunds 25% of XP spent on previous Aspect levels.
No XP cost for the purchase, all that initiation into the Technique costs is a knife and some eyeballs.
Aspect: Balance - In one's hands, the scales of Justice: impartiality and fairness imposed on the material realm, and then realms beyond. According to the Aspect of Balance, all men are created equal, and so with it comes the ability to even the score: intrinsic differences between individuals equalized, inherently unfair advantages demolished or copied over.
However, in Balance, always a fulcrum: the Aspect can equalize every other measurement to ensure a fair contest, but a contest must nonetheless hold onto some central axle of meaning about which its events occur. It struggles especially with altering or leveling fulcrums that are wielded through hard effort and work, rather than unfair achievement.
For instance, if participating in a race, it cannot equalize one's method of running, and struggles moderately against speed achieved through effortful practice; in a weightlifting contest, the technique of one's opponent is untouchable, and siphoning muscle they weren't born with predilection to obtain is difficult. However, cheating is immediately disqualified, for the word of Balance is egalitarian at its core.
In a conflict of arms, the most effective use of Balance is a reframing of the strife as a battle of ideals, allowing the arguments of oneself and one's opponents to do most of the work in deciding victory (most often, the wielder of Justice being the prevailing party.) This, naturally, is much less effective against inherently immoral, alien, or mercenary mindsets.
Current Level: 0
Next Level: 1 (250 XP)
In a battle, can reduce a difference in speed or strength such that neither party can wield more than a significant advantage over the other; requires considerable elevation of the affected Aspect (double that of user's Balance) to resist the effect. If one party wields an ability the other doesn't, almost six-tenths of the ability's effectiveness can be sealed.
Aspect: Retributor - Justice, as anything else of anthropocentric nature, operates within the confines of time. That a wrong happened in a time before does not wipe it away from the slate. That years have passed means nothing to the Retributor, whose domain is the delivery of Justice for wrongs committed in the past.
Current Level: 1
Next Level: 2 (500 XP)
For every misdeed committed by an entity you've encountered, conflicting with your sensibilities and with traditional morality, accumulate motes of conceptual advantage against that entity. The entity can be an individual, an institution, or something even more broad: experiences can be shallow or deep, personal in nature, or even unrelated and felt vicariously.
As this advantage can scale almost endlessly, it can elevate one above the truly and unforgivably wicked even at relatively undeveloped tiers of this Aspect.
As a result of the universe's inherent wrongness, and the existence of evil, the Retributor inevitably accumulates superhuman Attributes over time, although it may take even as much as a year to reach levels that are debatably supernatural. Contemplation and meditation on the nature of evil may accelerate the process.
Technique: Justice Is Served (250 XP, Level 1) - Mere contemplation of misdeeds cannot suffice to deliver Justice. Enhances the Aspect of the Retributor, as the proactive pursuit of Justice becomes rewarded: for every serving of Justice, accumulate energy into a pool of variable power.
It can be expended to enhance one's Attributes, doing so especially efficiently for durability, speed, and reflexes, or directly converted - albeit rather inefficiently and slowly - into Retributor XP that can be expended on this Aspect and Technique. A month of vigilantism and errantry can yield about 20 XP of empowerment; more in a suitable environment.
Aspect: Lawgiver - The establishment of metaphysical or physical law, or the strengthening of some of the pre-existing laws. Faced with Justice, criminals dare not break the decisions made with the consent of the governed; and even reality learns to obey the dictates of that which stands righteous above it.
Current Level: 0
Next Level: 1 (250 XP)
Can 'enhance' an existing law, whether a literal law (such as a law that defines murder or jaywalking) in order to make committing its associated crimes more difficult. Alternatively, can affect physical law, such as gravity or light, in order to manipulate - often via direct enhancement or augmentation - its effects.
Further effects available at higher Levels.
