Sveta: don't treat weldy like that you retard :( hes been through so much already
I read through her message for the fifth time in the last hour, then inventoried my phone again. I knew that, but what about my problems. Being this awesome wasn't easy, no matter how effortless I made it look, and it didn't help that I was already 'upset' for vague, nondescript reasons.
I hopped along the roof, away from the encroaching rumble of motorcycles, following the new nagging feeling deep in my brain as it led me to the tag I'd put on Mouse Protector. I jogged down a wall and jumped to land next to her, causing her to vanish, the tag nag in my head informing me she went somewhere pretty far away to my right.
"Question," I said, as she teleported back to me, which was ok because there were no windows nearby. "Who was in the wrong here? So yesterday, Bastion gets all up in my grill about something I'd done, like really yelling at me; so I transform into a Latino guy-"
Mouse laughed jeeringly, "that's my boy!"
"And then I give him one of these!"
{Mexican }
From what little I could see of her face it looked like Mouse just nutted hard, her knees giving out as great giggles wracked her shoulders. She managed to keep her feet by staggering into a wall and bracing herself against it.
"You know, they told me to give you a lecture on this shit," she gasped, turning her head away to lift her mask and scrub her face with a sleeve. "And whatever it was you did in some stupid group exercise, but don't you ever stop, you precious cinnamon bun."
I grinned at the praise, but I was pretty sure Mouse was trying to double bluff me or something. She was telling me to continue misbehaving, but that was wrong, and surely Mouse couldn't really be telling me to do the wrong thing. Mouse protector was basert et rougepilled, so this had to be a trick to get me to think about this and straighten up and fly right. I could get her condoning making fun of Bastion for saying the Spic word, but not fucking over my homies. MP weren't like that.
New Quest 'A sorry solves everything'!
Make an apology and give a gesture to the following targets:
[+]
Success: Based on number of targets hit
Failure: Decreased reputation with un-hit targets
Time: 23:59:59
I was very smart. God bless my huge INT, but why was Sveta on the list? If my power wanted me to give that bitch my rare armour set as an apology, I fucking would. Even though I hadn't played PROT for ages it was still going to hurt, I'd spent so long getting the whole set via drops with a point zero zero zero something percent drop rate, but if that was what it took to apologise then by god, I would.
"Thanks, Mouse," I grinned again, a pure sunny grin as purpose took a hold of my soul. "Really. I knew I could count on you."
I'd make all the apologies as heartfelt as I could, even the one to Bastion, because even he didn't deserve… I was pretty sure this was what happened, they didn't deserve me being not-awesome to them. That was something that not-awesome heroes did, like Bastion, but even though he was not-awesome it didn't mean I could be not-awesome to him.
I was going to see that Yamada lady Weld recommended soon, I should bring all this up with her.
+1 WIS!
If there was one problem on never being able to get worse at anything, it was that I couldn't backtrack on realising I was not-awesome too. Fuck you, past me, you deluded faggot, I hope you appreciate this.
"Heh, no problem, kid," Mouse continued because she couldn't read my mind and didn't understand the gravity of what just occurred. "It's also extra funny since I'm pretty sure that Bastion is Jewish."
He was, but I wasn't sure why that made it funny.
I glanced over my shoulder as the sound of bikes grew closer, "do you think they know we're leading them into a trap? I get that they're inbred meth-heads, but even for Fallen goons this is pretty bad."
"Then this will be a learning experience on never underestimating how stupid people like this can be," Mouse bounced herself off the wall and took off up the alleyway, leaving me to lope easily alongside her. "Trust me, laddie, they fall for it hook, line and sinker every god damn time."
I glanced over my shoulder again, and shook my head. We were getting close to the area the PRT said they'd meet us when we called in we were being tailed, and it was the most obvious trap area to be led into; from the backstreets into an open space with lots of ambush cover. I was very disappointed with them, how did the Fallen expect to be my nemesis if they were so dumb? Very sad.
We hustled into the ambush site and my Urban Tracking skill automatically pointed out all the very obvious signs that the PRT were here and waiting, signs I apparently should fully expect the Fallen bikies to miss. I internally sighed, and cast Clone.
"I'ma go hide," I said to Mouse who was alternating between scanning the area and trying out poses. "And then you can tell Armstrong you chewed me out and kept me safe."
"Thanks, kid," Mouse ruffled my hair vigorously. "You're a peach."
Heh, I'd rather get me some of that mouse peach, I didn't say.
Miraculously, my mouth stayed shut long enough for me to skedaddle behind some cover whereupon I mumbled the line to myself. Thank god, it sounded terrible out loud. I desperately needed game if I was going to marry Mouse Protector, I had to out compete all the Chads vying for her coveted hand.
The bikies rolled in like thunder, all leather pants and beards and sad Observe bios giving sob stories as to why they were pulling guns out of holsters to point at a fifteen year old whose only crime was posting a video on Twitter.
"Can we do this quick? I have a large amount of music to illegally download." My thrown one liner was sadly drowned out by the hail of gunfire that burst my clone like a pinata. Somehow it took the PRT busting into view for them to realise it was a trap, but bikes didn't work when they were clogged with con-foam.
I bit at my thumbnail, shaking my head to get rid of the gunfire. There were just too many reflective surfaces in this ambush site, seriously, what ambush site needed reflective surfaces? The answer was none, and it would do the PRT good to remember that.
Something suddenly appeared right beside me, carrying my tracker tag, and I screwed up my eyes and balled my fists as I manually resumed breathing.
It was just Mouse Protector.
Just Mouse, and she wasn't a g*rman. I checked.
Quest 'Trick and trap' complete!
Success: 5000xp, increased reputation with Boston PRT, increased reputation with Boston Protectorate
Being a hero fucking sucked.
"I haven't listened to it yet, just scrolled through the playlist, but some of it looks good. I've heard Oh Woah Godrays are fantastic, though."
Weld mispronounced the name as he prattled on about the pros and cons of my apology gift, but that was fine, his name was checked off the list which meant I did it right.
"But I've never even heard of Paleowave, or Gregorian House, where do you even find this stuff?"
"I have ways," I simpered. "And an enormous amount of free time, which is still driving me insane, by the way."
I was pretty sure that at some point before I took my memory perk and became unable to forget anything even if I wanted to, I was happy to have my life be an MMO grindfest, but now? I didn't want to do any of it, even though it was gonna make me the prime badass one day, I couldn't bear to even have my Total Enhancement spell running at a fraction of a percent effectiveness at all times to ensure consistent spell experience without outpacing my mana regen. Like, that was basic stuff. Even my resolution to do more pushups while waiting for stuff had fallen by the wayside; all I ever did anymore was wait. Wait for everyone to wake up. Wait for the days to be let outside. Wait for my mandatory schooling hours to be over. Wait for work. Wait for work to be over.
Endless waiting until I could go back home.
Man, fuck Coil. I was going to sucker punch that cuck if I ever saw him, sick the Empire on me will he? Fucker better be ready for the storm.
"I know, buddy," Weld leaned consolingly closer as we walked. "I had to explain all that to Armstrong and Bastion, that you didn't mean to hurt anyone, that you're just under a lot of stress, what with the attacks on you and everything, and how your power makes it harder to cope with being cooped up on base all day. It's why you're not in more trouble, but can you just do me a solid on this one? Talk to me. Tell me what's up, because I know you don't like hurting people, even accidentally. So let me know, and I'll try and swing something so you can get out and vent a little stress, ok?"
I guess they never miss, huh? Maybe I was the cuck. I felt my Acting skill tell me I was acting like a little bitch right now. Just take the hand, Greg.
"Thanks, man, I just… That's why I'm apologising to everyone, 'cause I feel like a huge faggot," I shrugged. "It's just hard, man. Lotta shit."
Like the end of the world, and I can't even tell you where you're from.
Weld sighed, because I was a government hero and I'd just said the word 'faggot' out loud in a children's hospital.
"And we really appreciate you apologising, just as I would appreciate if you-"
"Kept the language setting appropriate, yes, I know. I only had to do the PR training course a half dozen times. Sorry. My memory is perfect, I don't know why I keep slipping."
"Just try extra hard today, please, the last thing we need is one of these kids recording you dropping the F, C or N-Bombs."
I was about to ask, 'what if they dropped one first?', but bit it back. That was what I was trying to get away from. The old Greg. I wanted his happiness, but none of his faggotry.
"You got it, chief. I owe it to you to not Faberge up today, I'm not that much of a Constable of Nicaragua."
I was ninety nine percent sure Weld melted part of his face inside to stop himself from smiling.
"Even thatsh too far," he said, like his mouth was full of liquid mercury because I was definitely funny. "Now come on we've gotsh work to do."
We walked into the cancer ward, the most cancerous of wards, and it became pretty obvious where we were supposed to go, what with all the balloons and streamers outlining one door a little down the way.
I cracked my neck sickeningly; time to get this party started right.
{MLG Air horn}
{MLG Air horn}
We strutted into the room of cancerous children-
{MLG Air h-}
{MLG A-}
{MLG Air horn}
-and I announced our arrival.
Weld kicked my foot disapprovingly and took an extra step forward, "hey, I hope we're not late."
I Observed the sea of bald children as the head nurse came and greeted Weld, and yep, they definitely had cancer. Poor chitlins, but, I was certain that one day I could either cure that or cut it out in a five minute surgery. Please wait warmly, children, while I saved the world first.
I gave a sixteen CHA equivalent smile, "and I'm-"
{Dark Smoke Pun-cher!}
{Guitar riff}
"Dark Smoke Puncher, how are we all doing today?"
The assembled children looked astounded, like they couldn't decide whether me being able to make guitar noises was cooler than Weld being metal; but I was cooler, and they had to understand that. A plan unfolded in my mind, it was time.
"Are we ready to have some fun?" I glanced at Weld and the nurse, readying my Disguise spell for any choice, with their ambivalent expressions on the subjects of children and fun. "Who here likes memes, backflips and battle royale games?"
Quest 'Make a wish' complete!
Success: 15 000xp, increased reputation with Weld, increased reputation with the public
"You really nailed that," Weld said, sounding almost insultingly perplexed. "Since when were you good with kids?"
I stretched a bit, loosening my seatbelt, "did you know I haven't juggled in six months?"
"No, why?"
The Boston city scenery crawled by outside the PRT van window, a sea of concrete and meat and dreams. Dreams I'd forgotten because I wasn't being myself, myself.
"Before I joined the Wards, to get away from Coil, I did street performances. That was my thing, my show was 'The Fiendish Dr. Wu and his Kung-Fu trickery'. I'd juggle and blow some smoke and everyone would clap, and then give me money. I had this whole plan of getting famous, and going on shows like Ultimate Cape Warrior, and play Capeball, and host the academy awards, like," I sighed and looked at the floor. "I'd forgotten about all of that, I was so wrapped up in my own hype and the idea of being Triumvirate that I forgot; all I wanted to do was entertain. "
"That's great!" Weld jostled his huge metal frame around to face me. "If that's your thing we have tons of resources for it, being a Ward doesn't mean you can't do anything else. Everyone at the top would probably be thrilled to have you do some promo work that gets you a bit further away from combat, god knows you need to, I've never seen a Ward with so many," Weld stopped himself for a moment, then continued in a deliberately delicate voice like I was made of glass. "Attempted murders on them."
I exhaled loudly through my nose, "yeah. I do inspire a lot of murderous rage for some reason. I still want to be Triumvirate though, which means fighting. Can you imagine if Eidolon couldn't kick ass? And anyway, I still need to beat up Armsmaster next week."
"Why do you need to beat up Armsmaster? Isn't he, like, the last person you need to beat up?"
"You'd think, but it's a quest thing. And he's kind of a douche, so, I feel decking him one will be pretty cathartic."
I turned away and hid a gag at the phantom smell of blood, before realising I was looking at a window, so I turned back to Weld only to realise he was basically a walking mirror.
"Pretty cathartic indeed," I smiled blandly and crossed my arms, pressing my fingers into my side, hidden from Weld.
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Resist Damage [Electric] has levelled up!
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