Chapter 1
What the Hell Just Happened?!
She smiles as she walks up to collect her diploma. She isn't a huge fan of the stupid ass clothes they are making her wear, and the less that can be said about her having to give up her real name to live her life and get this damn diploma, the better.
But her dad would be proud, and she can see Dave just a few rows back in the audience. He'd made the trip all the way down from New York to Miami just to cheer her on. It made the butterflies in her stomach behave like dive-bombing B-52's, but she is able to clamp down on that emotion and smile as the principal hands her the rolled-up tube of paper with a grin and a handshake.
She'd never say she was happy to give up her 'job' as a hero. But to make her dead father proud, and to drag the only other still living hero that she respects down to say hi even if neither of them was still particularly active? The one that had been instrumental in helping her avenge her father? Yeah. Mindy McReady, the former Hit-Girl, can't say she regrets a damn thing.
It takes almost forty minutes for that long-winded moron to get done blathering on about their future for the second time that night once they are all passed out, and then she makes her way down to see Dave again.
He gives her a grin as she makes her way to him. "Feels good to be done with this place, doesn't it?" He sticks his hand out and she ignores it, pulling him into a heartfelt if fairly quick hug. "Thanks for coming down. I really didn't have anybody else to invite, and I wasn't looking forward to being the only one to walk out of here alone."
He smirks a bit and gives her a final squeeze before he turns her loose. "You? Brought to heel by the system for long enough to get a diploma? How could I possibly turn that down?"
She is leading him back to her car. He'd taken a plane into town and then a taxi to the ceremony, so they'll be taking her car. That she hates.
It's a Prius. Her dad would love it for efficiency and economy. Hell, he'd probably even be a fan of it for 'green' reasons. She finds it just this side of worthless, and almost feels like she can hear the strangled little 'put-put-put' sounds the engine must be making when it kicks over. She would much rather be riding around on something with two fewer wheels and had a top speed in the low two hundreds after being slowed down by some explosive aftermarket options. But she's been trying to keep a low profile. Damn it.
She smacks him on the back for the 'heel' comment, making him stagger much less than he might have three years ago when she'd last seen him. He's been working out.
Nice. Very nice.
She offers a grin as he gets his balance, offering only a raised eyebrow and a twitching lip that is trying not to smirk as he does so. There might be a slight bruise later, but he hadn't felt much. His opening act as a hero had done so much nerve damage and had resulted in so much of his skeleton covered in steel as they tried to pin him back together that it takes a lot for him to notice much these days. He's no six million dollar man and he has the medical bills to prove it. But he can take a hell of a beating before he starts to care.
"So, never been to Miami before. Did you have a plan for the evening? I mean, I can pick up the tab wherever we go but I have no idea where we are headed."
She looks at him in curiosity. He's twenty-two to her eighteen now. But she has kept an eye out for him through electronic means for the last two years. Just trying to make sure nothing bad is in the works. There are people that would be entirely too interested in the man if they knew who he was. So she knows that he is currently a grunt worker at a comic shop while racking up student loans, having just finished his second year of college. He'd apparently taken a year or two off of school after he'd gotten his own diploma.
She's actually really damned surprised he had the money for the ticket. She'd expected to have to send him some to get him down here.
"Naw, it's cool. I know things are tight for you. I can pay."
He shakes his head. "I got this. Things are actually not too bad right now. I had to sell my dad's old place last month. Paid off a bunch of student loans and I still have a couple of hundred thousand in the bank. I can't go too crazy, cause I'll be renting now. But the taxes on the property were killing me anyway since they started cleaning up the area a couple of years ago and those jerks in city hall had everything reassessed to bleed us all dry."
Mindy turns into a parking lot of a local mom and pop steakhouse that she favors. It's the kind of place that her dad would have liked. Friendly waitstaff, good food for reasonable prices, and it stays just busy enough that nobody has time to recognize you as a regular unless you are coming in multiple times a week. Once she parks, she looks over at her friend. They'd both lost their mothers early in life. Her before she even had a chance to know her, and him before he'd ever worn the mask. But both of their fathers had literally given their lives for their children. She had never really had a home. But she can imagine what it would be like to have to give up the one that his father had raised him in.
"Wanna talk about it?"
He looks over briefly as he opens the door, a sad smile flashing across his face as he glances over before it is almost visibly shoved away and a broad grin shows off teeth that have been brushed into submission his whole life.
"Today is your day, let's not waste it talking about that kinda crap."
Then he steps out and offers his arm as though he was some kind of Victorian gentleman as he leads her towards the door to the tune of her incessant giggling.
The meal is great, and the conversation in hushed tones as they reminisce over old victories is a balm on her soul. Knowing what she does about how the police operate, her father having been one once long ago, they have been unwilling to risk having this kind of conversation over a phone or in email. It isn't until they are perusing the dessert menu that she sees him. A man across the street, staring through the window in pure hatred.
She knows him. One of the minions of the man that had her father killed. Must have followed down Kick-Ass. Must be here for a reason. Must... He pulls something out of his pocket, flicks a switch, and flips her off. Then he presses a button while she is yelling.
"We got to move, there's a..."
Then a flash of pain as a pressure wave hits them and liquefies their guts, sending both of them and anybody on this side of the restaurant into unconsciousness at the minimum. These two? They are a little too close for just that.
Sometime later...
Hit-Girl, as that is what she calls herself in her mind, feels herself slowly becoming conscious. The dim glow that surrounds her seems endless and while she has a general feeling of being, she finds that she can't move her head. Can't see her nose in the corner of her eyes. Can't breathe? Panic washes over her, but it doesn't stay long. She can't breathe, sure. But not breathing doesn't seem to be having any kind of negative effects. So she must be...
"Dead?" Comes a voice from somewhere behind her. "Yes ma'am. Dead as a doornail. Kicked the bucket. Bought the farm. Shuffled the mortal coil. Pushing up daisies. Joined the celestial choir... Okay, probably not that last one. You have been quite the naughty girl a time or two. Let us see, what was the phrasing again? Thou shalt not kill?"
Then a man walks around where she supposes her soul must be. If souls are a thing. She'd roll her eyes if she could. The dude looks just like Morgan Freeman.
"Seriously? I think you are trying a little too hard, fuck-face. So I bit the bullet huh? This is hell then?"
The man laughs. "I always did like you, you know? So much passion. So fearless. So utterly convinced that you can deal with anything that comes your way." He smirks. "And no, not a bullet. You and your little heartthrob were practically kissing the edge of a bomb that took out the building. That guy really did not like you."
Her heart sinks. "Kick-Ass?"
He leans in close. "Does your heart beat that little bit faster for anything other than him and gutting bad guys like they were the catch of the day?"
She doesn't respond to that. She can take a lot. But she doesn't like finding out that somebody she cares for has gotten themselves killed. Especially when they only died because they were coming to visit her.
The man's eyes roll. "Oh get over yourself. He's made plenty of enemies, and he is garbage at getting rid of them permanently in comparison to you. He's been on borrowed time for two years while those twits waited for him to contact you."
If he was thinking that was going to make her happy, he'd be mistaken. But it does reboot her brain back into the current situation.
"So what happens now?"
The man shrugs. "Whatever you want."
Mindy so wishes she had an eyebrow she could raise, but based on the look she gets it would seem that this guy is able to get the idea. "What do you mean, whatever I want?"
The Morgan lookalike offers something between a smirk and a shrug.
"You impressed a lot of... Shall we call them VIP's? Only maybe replace the P with a G? Anyway, you made a splash. Things that were set in motion decades ago, crushed by an eleven-year-old with an attitude and a penchant for violence." He smiles. "I haven't seen the big daddies of Valhalla and Olympus agree on anything more complex than what color the grass is for more than a thousand years, but they were both more than happy to put things aside to give you a second chance to entertain."
She thinks about it for a second and then speaks with urgency.
"I want Dave and me to live again and to have a chance to live our lives together." Her voice falters a bit. "You know. If he wants to."
The man offers her a smile. Not a smirk, or a grin. But a gentle smile. "Sorry, can't do that one for you."
She immediately loses it. "Why the hell not, he's at least as much of a hero as I am. Hell, he went into it solo, I had training and support from my dad. Screw you, jackass! I want to talk to your fucking supervisor!"
His belly laugh almost has him bent over as he apparently can't hold it in. It takes him almost a minute and a half to calm down as he stands there, his hands on his knees.
"Oh, that was wonderful. Calm down, princess. I can't do that one for you because he already beat you to it. One of my counterparts is having this same conversation with him and he is a few minutes ahead of you. The body armor you were wearing under your clothes kept your spark in for a minute or two after he was already gone."
She can practically feel the light bloom in her chest as she goes from enraged to thrilled.
"He really said that?"
The man sighs. "Near enough. He wanted you both back so you wouldn't have to be alone, whatever happened. He worries about you, lady. A lot. But he met you when you were eleven. It might be a while before a nice guy like him is ready for the horizontal tango." He smirks. "But that isn't really an answer to the question. What do you want?"
This time there is a bit more thought to it. Then she pastes a virtual smirk on her mind thinking that if this is backed by actual gods like the fucktard said, she may as well shoot for the moon.
"Then I want us to have enough power to take this hero thing to the next level."
The man has a curious, but pleased look on his face. "That's a little open-ended. Are you sure?"
"Let's just say that I figure there are two options. You are a lying sack of crap or anything you offer is going to get one hell of a review from people that I wouldn't wanna fuck with anyway." Her mental voice takes on a snicker. "Figured I'd offer you enough rope to hang yourself, Mr. Driving Miss Daisy."
The man breaks into laughter again at this and snaps his fingers.
"Done. Don't have too much fun now."
Then her consciousness fades, and she knows no more.
Later, somewhere new that he doesn't recognize.
Dave's eyes flip open almost of their own accord and before the panic of the bomb or even the confusion of his ridiculous dream can kick in, he sees something that immediately takes all of his attention. Directly in front of his face, he can see a deep blue box about a foot tall by two feet wide. A text box. It looks for all the world like Windows has crashed somewhere in his brain, since it follows his vision for about five seconds, and then inexplicably it flashes twice, reducing itself to a tiny folder on the extreme bottom left of his vision. Almost in a trance, the young man with messy brown hair and a lanky if well-muscled build reaches out to the folder. At once, it maximizes again and fills his vision.
YOU HAVE SLEPT AND REGAINED HEALTH, STAMINA, AND ALL OTHER RESOURCE POINTS AVAILABLE.
Noticing for the first time the small 'X' in the upper right-hand corner of the blue box, he reaches out to it and the box once again minimizes. This time to a tiny little representation of a trash can on the far lower right of his vision. It trips him out a bit when he realizes that anytime he isn't actively trying to look at them, both the trash can and the folder fade away to almost nothing. The palest of ghosts that do nothing really to impede his vision.
He rubs his eyes for a moment, wondering just what the hell is going on. Then he is distracted by another blue box appearing.
WELCOME TO YOUR NEW LIFE, DAVE. WE CONSIDERED OFFERING SOME KIND OF TUTORIAL AT THIS POINT BUT FRANKLY DECIDED NOT TO BOTHER. BOTH OF YOU ARE PLENTY INTELLIGENT AND WE HAVE FAITH YOU WILL SORT THINGS OUT. BE ADVISED THAT A FEW THINGS HAD TO BE FINAGLED A BIT TO MAKE THIS FLY, AND THE BIGGEST ONE IS THAT IN ORDER TO GIVE YOU BOTH WHAT YOU WANTED, WE HAD TO 'GIFT' YOU WITH THE 'MAY YOU LIVE IN ALL THE INTERESTING TIMES.' CURSE. AS AN OLIVE BRANCH TO GET YOU STARTED, TRY THIS. SAY 'STATUS.'
BEST OF LUCK,
MANAGEMENT.
After pressing the 'X' in the upper right-hand corner, he decides to take a moment to look around. Then is immediately concerned.
He's in a hospital bed and in a room that has two such. The other is also occupied.
"Mindy!" Is almost shouted before he even has a chance to consider how bad an idea being loud could be.
At his somewhat muted outburst as common sense managed to prevail at the last millisecond, she stirs for a moment, and then her eyes flip open.
"What the shit?"
She is obviously staring at something right in front of her face, and Dave shakes his head. "I got absolutely no idea. My 'intro' box claimed it had to do with something one of us asked for once I got past the standard Final Fantasy 'rest' crap, but I don't know how my wish could lead to this."
He watches her deal with the same things he did for a couple of minutes, and as he hears her say 'Status' realizes he hasn't done that yet and follows suit.
STATUS SCREEN.
NAME: Dave Lizewski / Kick-Ass
TITLE: Gamer.
AGE: 22
SEX: Male
LEVEL: 6
XP: 21,000
NEEDED FOR NEXT LEVEL: 7,000
HEALTH: 75
REC: .75
STAMINA: 48
REC: 4.8
MP: 25 / 25
REC: 2.5
AP: 24 / 24
REC: 2.4
PE: 25 / 25
REC: 2.5
STR: 15
DEX: 12
CON: 18
INT: 13
WIS: 12
CHA: 13
STAT POINTS: 12
EVOLUTION POINTS: (NA)
MAGIC ABILITIES: (NA)
AURA ABILITIES: (NA)
PSYCHIC ABILITIES: (NA)
MENTAL ABILITIES: (2)
PHYSICAL TRAITS: (0)
PHYSICAL ABILITIES: (4)
RACIAL TRAITS: (0)
NON-COMBAT SKILLS: (4)
COMBAT SKILLS: (4)
MISC: (1)
Realizing that everything here has a drop-down to explain or detail certain things, he spends a few minutes familiarizing himself with whatever the hell his new reality is. Experience points for solving problems and handling bad guys. It doesn't actually say 'kill' but the wording makes him think that they need to be out of the way for a while. Measured in days at least. XP needed for the next level is apparently always a thousand times the level he is going to past the first, which could be called a freebie if it wasn't for the fact it meant he needed three thousand to hit second. Must be to keep normal people from ever leveling? Maybe? He's already past it anyway it looks like, so he's going to file that under 'someone else's problem.' Health is obvious. He dies if it's gone, it gets knocked down when he takes damage. Total is physical stats put together plus five per level. All recovery times measured in minutes, apparently. Basic video game stuff. Same with stamina except that one is Constitution (CON) and five per level. Used for special attacks and if he is exerting himself it comes back even slower. Move the decimal point another space. He rolls his eyes. That is going to make things annoying. MP is apparently 'Magic Points.' Used for magic. Naturally.
Then his eyes widen. Magic? Seriously? What the...
AP is Aura Points, whatever that is. PE is Psychic Energy. He shakes his head. Just what in the hell did Mindy want from the guy, anyway? STR is strength, DEX is dexterity, then constitution wraps up the physicals. The mental stats being intelligence, wisdom, and charisma. Which apparently also feed MP, AP, and PE respectively, plus the level bonus, which in this case is only two per. Which might be good or bad, depending on what it costs to use the abilities. Whenever he gets them. Two bonus stat points a level, and being at level six gives him twelve to play with. That's cool.
Evolution points? Is he gonna turn into a lizard or something? Apparently not. It looks like a lot of stuff is currently 'Not Applicable' for whatever reason. Maybe he'll pick it up later. Mental abilities? He has mental abilities? Hitting the drop-down, he is given a basic description.
MENTAL ABILITIES. (2)
GAMER'S MIND.
YOU ARE ABLE TO REMAIN COOL UNDER PRESSURE, AND HAVE EXTREME RESISTANCE TO ANY AND ALL MENTAL EFFECTS. ALMOST AS THOUGH YOU ARE PLAYING A GAME, RATHER THAN EXPERIENCING IT FIRST HAND. THIS ABILITY HAS NO LEVEL AND SHOULD BE CONSIDERED ALWAYS ON UNLESS IT IS ACTIVELY SUPPRESSED BY YOU.
OBSERVE:
LEVEL: 1
ENABLES YOU TO LEARN SOMETHING ABOUT A CREATURE OR OBJECT AFTER CONCENTRATING ON IT FOR A FEW SECONDS. SKILL LEVEL DETERMINES BOTH THE AMOUNT OF KNOWLEDGE OBTAINED, AND YOUR ABILITY TO SEE PAST ANY EFFORTS TO HIDE THE IDENTITY, ABILITIES, OR WEAKNESSES OF A SUBJECT.
Huh. Well, that'll be nice. Though the fact that he even needs to worry about being in a world where 'Mental Effects' are a thing is more than a little worrisome. Moving down to the physical abilities tab, he can't help but wonder how he started with four. He's... well, reasonably normal, anyway.
PHYSICAL ABILITIES. (4)
GAMER'S BODY.
YOU WILL RECOVER FROM ALL INJURY GIVEN ENOUGH TIME, ASSUMING THAT THE DAMAGE DIDN'T KILL YOU OUTRIGHT. YOU WILL ALSO RECOVER FROM STATUS EFFECTS AT AN ACCELERATED RATE, WITH A FULL EIGHT HOURS OF COMFORTABLE REST BEING A GENERAL CURE-ALL IF NOTHING ELSE WILL WORK.
INVENTORY.
YOU POSSESS AN INTERNAL INVENTORY THAT CAN BE ACCESSED BY SAYING "INVENTORY." NOTE THAT WHILE THERE ARE NO TOTAL WEIGHT OR NUMBER OF SLOT RESTRICTIONS, THE LARGEST THAT ANY SINGLE ITEM CAN BE IS YOUR LEVEL TIMES TEN IN POUNDS, AND YOUR LEVEL IN CUBIC FEET FOR VOLUME. ALSO, IN (HOPEFULLY) RARE CIRCUMSTANCES IT IS POSSIBLE TO LOSE ITEMS IN YOUR INVENTORY, BUT THE FIRST TWENTY SLOTS THAT HAVE A PURPLE BACKGROUND WILL ALWAYS BE PROTECTED FROM SUCH THINGS.
DEADENED NERVES.
BEFORE YOUR STATUS AS A GAMER WAS ACHIEVED, YOU HAVE SUSTAINED AN EXTREME AMOUNT OF DAMAGE THAT HAS 'GIFTED' YOU WITH AN EXCEPTIONALLY HIGH PAIN TOLERANCE. ALL PAIN IS REDUCED BY SEVENTY PERCENT WHEN CALCULATING ITS ABILITY TO HINDER, DISTRACT, OR OTHERWISE AFFECT YOUR PERFORMANCE. WHILE THIS CANNOT BE ITSELF INCREASED, IT CAN BE ADDED TO BY OTHER EFFECTS. THOUGH THE PERCENTAGES WILL ACT UPON EACH OTHER, RATHER THAN STACK.
STEEL PLATED SKELETON.
BEFORE YOUR STATUS AS A GAMER WAS ACHIEVED, YOU HAVE SUSTAINED AN EXTREME AMOUNT OF DAMAGE THAT CAUSED MOST OF YOUR BONES TO BE REINFORCED WITH STEEL BACKING. THAT HAS 'GIFTED' YOU WITH A FIFTY PERCENT REDUCTION IN DAMAGE FROM BLUNT TRAUMA OR ANY CRITICAL HIT WHICH WOULD REQUIRE A BONE BREAKING TO BE VIABLE. WHILE THIS CANNOT BE ITSELF INCREASED, IT CAN BE ADDED TO BY OTHER EFFECTS. THOUGH THE PERCENTAGES WILL ACT UPON EACH OTHER, RATHER THAN STACK. ADDITIONALLY, BECAUSE THIS IS A PRE-EXISTING CONDITION YOUR GAMER BODY WILL TREAT IT AS THOUGH IT IS TRULY A PART OF YOU. EVEN WERE IT ALL TO BE REMOVED OR BECOME DAMAGED, IT WOULD EVENTUALLY, GROW BACK OR SELF REPAIR / STRAIGHTEN.
Damn. Well, it's nice to have it quantified he supposes. Moving down the list.
NON-COMBAT SKILLS (4)
BASIC HOMEMAKING:
INCLUDES NON-PROFESIONAL LEVELS OF MANY SKILLS, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO COOKING, CLEANING, BASIC HOME REPAIR, EFFICIENT HANDLING OF SHOPPING AND BILLS, CARE FOR CHILDREN, AND MINOR MEDICAL SKILLS OF THE TYPE THAT CAN BE ACHIEVED BY HAVING READ THE INSTRUCTIONS THAT COME WITH BOTTLES OR BOXES OF VARIOUS MEDICINES, BANDAGES, ETC. THERE IS NO LEVEL RANGE FOR THIS SKILL, IT IS TO BE CONSIDERED THE MOST BASIC OF KNOWLEDGE IN ANY GIVEN AREA. THE PROFESSIONAL VARIANTS HOWEVER BE ABLE TO BE ADVANCED.
GENERAL EDUCATION: +2
DENOTES THE LEVEL OF EDUCATION THAT WOULD INDICATE THAT YOU HAVE RECEIVED A HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMA. IT COMES WITH NO PARTICULAR SKILLS OR LEVEL BEYOND ASSISTING WITH FURTHER EDUCATION IN THE FORM OF GOOD STUDY HABITS AND BASIC MATH, SCIENCE, COMPUTER USE, AND LANGUAGE ABILITIES. CAN OCCASIONALLY BE USEFUL IN OTHER WAYS, BUT IT IS BEST TO ASSUME THAT YOU NEED MORE EDUCATION FOR IT TO BE WORTH ANYTHING. YOU HAVE A SLIGHT BONUS TO THIS SKILL, CORRESPONDING TO THE ADDITIONAL YEARS OF EDUCATION YOU HAVE ACHIEVED. WITH A FULL BACHELORS DEGREE, THIS CAN BE INCREASED TO A MAXIMUM OF A BONUS OF FOUR BEFORE SPECIFIC SKILLS IN PROFESSIONS MUST BE ACQUIRED.
BASIC DRIVING:
LEVEL: 5
YOU ARE ABLE TO SUCCESSFULLY GET FROM POINTS A TO B IN MOST MODERN WHEELED CONVEYANCES. MANUAL, AUTOMATIC, AND VARIOUS MOTORCYCLES AND RECREATIONAL VEHICLES ARE COVERED. DRIVING COMMERCIAL VEHICLES CAN BE ATTEMPTED WITH THIS SKILL AT A SIGNIFICANT PENALTY. CAN BE UPGRADED TO COMBAT DRIVING IF THE SKILL IS USED IN SITUATIONS WHERE THIS WOULD MAKE SENSE.
SALES WORKFORCE DRONE:
LEVEL: 6
YOU ARE REASONABLY WELL VERSED IN MOST ACTIVITIES THAT AN EMPLOYER WOULD REQUIRE OF YOU IN A LIMITED CAPACITY WORK ENVIRONMENT. INCLUDES HANDLING COMMONLY USED SALES FLOOR ELECTRONICS AND MOVING EQUIPMENT, BASIC JANITORIAL DUTIES, SHELF STOCKING, MERCHANDISE ORGANIZING, AND DEALING WITH UNRULY CUSTOMERS AND/OR CO-WORKERS IN A WAY THAT IS UNLIKELY TO SEE YOU UNEMPLOYED.
The realization that the above four skills encompass the majority of his life is a horror that is only mitigated by the fact that it is the same thing that most other people have. Probably better than many. Might as well take a look at the fun stuff.
COMBAT SKILLS (4)
BRAWLING:
LEVEL: 8
THE ABILITY TO TAKE A HIT, THROW A BASIC PUNCH OR KICK, AND IF NEEDED USE IMPROVISED WEAPONS AT A SIGNIFICANT SKILL REDUCTION.
BLUNT WEAPONS:
LEVEL: 8
HITTING PEOPLE OR OBJECTS WITH BLUNT THINGS. DAMAGE CAN BE INCREASED OR REDUCED FROM YOUR NORMAL STRENGTH, BASED ON THE TYPE OF WEAPON USED. MANY WEAPONS WILL HAVE AN ADDITIONAL BONUS, MINIMUM, OR MAXIMUM DAMAGE ATTACHED TO THEM. IS BEST USED WITH ACTUAL WEAPONS, THOUGH THE SKILL REDUCTION FOR USING BLADED TOOLS IN COMBAT IS RELATIVELY MINOR.
TWO WEAPON FIGHTING:
LEVEL: 8
YOU ARE ABLE TO USE A WEAPON IN EITHER HAND WITH A REASONABLE DEGREE OF SKILL. THIS OPENS UP THE OPTIONS TO STRIKE TWICE, DEFEND TWICE, OR BOTH ATTACK AND DEFEND WITHIN THE SAME TIME PERIOD. AT THIS LEVEL, ALL ACTIONS TAKEN WHILE WIELDING TWO WEAPONS SIMULTANEOUSLY WILL BE AT A SMALL SKILL REDUCTION.
SMALL COMBAT AIRCRAFT:
LEVEL: 1
YOU HAVE AN ALMOST NEGLIGABLE AMOUNT OF EXPERIENCE IN SMALL COMBAT AIRCRAFT. WITH SOME TIME AND AN INSTRUCTION BOOKLET YOU CAN SORT THE WORKINGS AND OPERATION OF MANY SMALL AIRCRAFT BASED ON YOUR EXPERIENCES, THOUGH IT IS WORTH NOTING THAT THE FIRST TIME IN ANY NEW AIRCRAFT WITHOUT PROPER INSTRUCTION FROM A PROFESSIONAL COMES WITH AN EXTREME SKILL PENALTY.
Reading this causes sweat to bead upon his head. Apparently, when he was using that damn jet-pack he was beyond lucky to have not died horribly.
Good to know. Moving on to the last entry, the one that he had been unbelievably curious about since he had first seen it. Miscellaneous almost has to be interesting. Anything that couldn't fit anywhere else on this sheet? Gotta be unusual, to say the least.
MISC (1)
YOUR SOUL HAS BEEN BLENDED WITH THAT OF YOUR FRIEND, MINDY MC READY. THE TWO OF YOU SHARE WHAT IS EFFECTIVELY A SINGLE SUPER-SIZED SOUL. THIS WILL HAVE MANY EFFECTS THAT YOU WILL NEED TO DISCOVER ON YOUR OWN, BUT THE FIRST IS:
SOULBOUND LOCATOR:
WITH A MOMENT OF CONCENTRATION YOU CAN DISCERN THE DIRECTION OF THE REST OF YOUR SOUL WITH LITTLE DIFFICULTY, REGARDLESS OF THE DISTANCES INVOLVED. NO LEVEL, IT IS AN INNATE ABILITY THAT CANNOT BE IMPROVED.
He is about to break down and ask Mindy just what the hell she wished for when it occurs to him. This part? This bit right here?
This was probably because of him. Now he just has to hope that she doesn't kill him over it when she gets to it.
Mindy's point of view.
Well, she thinks. What in the hell is all this?
STATUS SCREEN.
NAME: Mindy McReady / Hit-Girl
TITLE: Gamer.
AGE: 18
SEX: Female
LEVEL: 10
XP: 55,000
NEEDED FOR NEXT LEVEL: 11,000
HEALTH: 96
REC: .96
STAMINA: 64
REC: 6.4
MP: 33
REC: 3.3
AP: 31
REC: 3.1
PE: 34
REC: 3.4
STR: 14
DEX: 18
CON: 14
INT: 13
WIS: 11
CHA: 14
STAT POINTS: 20
EVOLUTION POINTS: (NA)
MAGIC ABILITIES: (NA)
AURA ABILITIES: (NA)
PSYCHIC ABILITIES: (NA)
MENTAL ABILITIES: (2)
PHYSICAL ABILITIES: (2)
PHYSICAL TRAITS: (1)
RACIAL TRAITS: (0)
NON-COMBAT SKILLS: (3)
COMBAT SKILLS: (12)
MISC: (1)
Huh, she thinks to herself as she goes through the rather all-encompassing briefing of her existence. She makes note of many of the same things that Dave did, with curiously enough many of the same thoughts.
She's not positive she likes the possibility of some of these things existing in her world either.
Unknown to her at this time, her mental and physical abilities are the same as his, minus the ones he received for getting his ass trashed the first time he went out to play the hero. But the physical trait she can't help but roll her eyes at.
PHYSICAL TRAITS (1)
SMALL STATURE:
YOU ARE NOT INSIGNIFICANTLY SMALLER THAN A STANDARD HUMAN, THOUGH NOT EGREGIOUSLY SO. THIS MAKES YOU SLIGHTLY MORE DIFFICULT TO HIT, PARTICULARLY AT RANGE, AND UNFORTUNATELY MAKES IT SLIGHTLY MORE LIKELY TO FAIL IN A SITUATION WHERE YOU ARE BEING GRAPPLED.
Yeah. Laugh it up, assholes.
Finding out that her basic education was considered largely worthless is infuriating for her. Four fucking years, completely wasted for no damn reason. But at least her other non-combat skills weren't worthless.
INVESTIGATION:
LEVEL: 8
YOU ARE COMPETENT AT A NUMBER OF TECHNIQUES USED BY A MODERN PRIVATE DETECTIVE, INCLUDING RESEARCH INTO INDIVIDUALS, LOCATIONS, AND ITEMS.
STEALTH:
LEVEL: 14
YOU ARE SKILLED IN GETTING AROUND UNSEEN WHEN YOU CHOOSE TO. CAN ALSO BE USED WHEN APPROPRIATE TO OFFER A BONUS IN COMBAT SITUATIONS, BUT GENERALLY ONLY IF YOU STRIKE FIRST, AND THEY HAVEN'T SPOTTED YOU.
But now she gets into combat skills. She is hoping to see good things here. She worked damn hard to get this good, if the stupid system doesn't respect it she'll beat the snot out of that Morgan looking motherfucker next time she sees him.
COMBAT SKILLS (12)
MARTIAL ARTS:
LEVEL: 16
YOU ARE VERY COMPETENT IN USING YOUR HANDS, FEET, AND BODY IN BRINGING THE PAIN TO YOUR OPPONENTS. INCLUDES THE ABILITY TO USE MOST ANCIENT WEAPON TYPES, ALBEIT AT A SEVERE SKILL REDUCTION IF YOU DO NOT HAVE THE CORRECT WEAPON SKILL. IF YOU DO, IT OFFERS A SMALL BONUS. ALLOWS YOU TO USE DEXTERITY RATHER THAN STRENGTH TO DETERMINE WEAPON DAMAGE FOR UNARMED COMBAT AND SINGLE HANDED WEAPONS.
BLADED WEAPONS:
LEVEL: 15
IF IT CUTS, YOU CAN USE IT AND USE IT WELL. IS BEST USED WITH ACTUAL WEAPONS, THOUGH THE SKILL REDUCTION FOR USING BLADED TOOLS IN COMBAT IS RELATIVELY MINOR.
PIERCING WEAPONS:
LEVEL: 14
PUTTING THE SHARP POINTY THING INTO THE SOFT FLESH OF YOUR ENEMIES IS A SKILL YOU EXCELL AT. IS BEST USED WITH ACTUAL WEAPONS, THOUGH THE SKILL REDUCTION FOR USING PIERCING TOOLS IN COMBAT IS RELATIVELY MINOR.
TWO WEAPON FIGHTING:
LEVEL: 11
YOU ARE ABLE TO USE A WEAPON IN EITHER HAND WITH A RESPECTABLE DEGREE OF SKILL. THIS OPENS UP THE OPTIONS TO STRIKE TWICE, DEFEND TWICE, OR BOTH ATTACK AND DEFEND WITHIN THE SAME TIME PERIOD. AT THIS LEVEL, ALL ACTIONS TAKEN WHILE WIELDING TWO WEAPONS SIMULTANEOUSLY WILL BE AT A SMALL SKILL REDUCTION.
TWO HANDED WEAPONS:
LEVEL: 15
YOU ARE SKILLED IN USING WEAPONS THAT REQUIRE TWO HANDS TO USE PROPERLY. AT YOUR CURRENT SKILL LEVEL, YOU SUFFER NEITHER PENALTIES NOR DO YOU HAVE ANY PARTICULAR BONUSES FOR DOING SO. THE CORRESPONDING SLASHING, PIERCING, OR BLUNT SKILL IS REQUIRED TO MAKE FULL USE OF THIS TECHNIQUE.
HANDGUNS:
LEVEL: 16
FIREARMS THAT ARE USED IN ONE HAND. YOU ARE SKILLED IN THE USE AND MAINTENANCE OF THESE WEAPONS.
RIFLES:
LEVEL: 9
FIREARMS THAT ARE USED IN TWO HANDS. YOU ARE SKILLED IN THE USE AND MAINTENANCE OF THESE WEAPONS.
COMAT DRIVING:
LEVEL: 12
YOU ARE ABLE AND WILLING TO TAKE CHANCES THAT MOST NORMAL PEOPLE WOULD CALL INSANE WHILE IN CONTROL OF A MOTOR VEHICLE. COMBAT DRIVING INCLUDES AND CAN SUBSTITUTE FOR THE BASIC DRIVING SKILL.
CRITICAL STRIKE:
LEVEL: 12
COST: 2 SP
YOU HAVE A PERCENTAGE CHANCE TO CRITICALLY STRIKE YOUR OPPONENT EQUAL TO HALF YOUR SKILL LEVEL ON EVERY ATTACK, AND EQUAL TO YOUR SKILL LEVEL IF YOU ARE IN A POSITION TO TAKE THE TIME TO MAKE SURE YOU ARE DOING IT RIGHT AND ACTIVATE THE SKILL. ADVISORY: THIS SKILL IS ONLY APPLICABLE TO OPPONENTS THAT YOU UNDERSTAND WELL ENOUGH TO DETERMINE WHERE THEIR WEAK SPOTS MAY BE. THE COST IS PAID WHEN YOU ACTIVATE THE SKILL, WHETHER THE HIT SUCCEEDS OR NOT. THERE IS NO COST FOR PASSIVE USE.
POWER STRIKE:
LEVEL: 8
COST: 2
WHEN YOU ARE WILLING TO PUT MORE EFFORT IN, YOU CAN INCREASE YOUR DAMAGE BY EITHER THE LEVEL OF THE SKILL OR BY ADDING THE SKILL TO THE DAMAGE IN THE FORM OF A PERCENTAGE INCREASE TO THE TOTAL PHYSICAL DAMAGE. WHICHEVER IS MORE.
THROWN WEAPONS:
LEVEL: 9
YOU ARE SKILLED IN THROWING WEAPONS MADE FOR DOING SO. YOU MAY THROW THINGS NOT INTENDED FOR THE PURPOSE, BUT THEY ARE TREATED AS IMPROVISED WEAPONS AND YOUR SKILL IS CONSIDERABLY DECREASED.
COMBAT MOVEMENT:
LEVEL: 22
YOU DON'T NEED TO STRIKE FROM THE SHADOWS UNLESS YOU FEEL LIKE IT. WHEN ON THE MOVE, YOU ARE WELL VERSED IN HOW TO MINIMIZE YOUR OPPONENT'S CHANCES WHILE MAXIMIZING YOUR OPPORTUNITIES. ADDS A BONUS TO BOTH ATTACK AND DEFENSE, THOUGH NOT DAMAGE, WHEN YOU HAVE ROOM TO MANEUVER AND ARE MAKING THEM WORK FOR IT.
Yup. Damn straight. She grins a bit on the inside. Then she reads the miscellaneous tab and her face turns a lovely shade of pink as she turns to look at her friend, comrade in arms, and the one she was kinda hoping could be a boyfriend someday.
He is looking at her, and he looks scared.
Wait, scared? Thinking back on everything, it occurs to her what this is about and she smirks at him.
"Whatcha worried about, Dave? Not loving the fact that you can't ever get away from me?"
He sighs, holding his nose. "No, more concerned that you won't like that you can't get away from me and then decide to do something about it."
She gets a confused look on her face and then scoffs when it comes clear.
"Yeah, not too worried about it actually. I've been wondering how the fuck I was going to keep your dumb ass out of trouble, and I'm thinking this can only help." The grin that sweeps across her face about halfway through the statement takes the sting out of her words. Then the confused look comes back. "Where the hell are we anyway?" She glances out the window. "Doesn't look like Miami, that's for damn sure."
Following her gaze, Dave is forced to admit that she is right. Whatever this place is, the structures aren't tall enough to be Miami. Not unless they made it a point to haul them off to some hospital on the edge of the city and this window wasn't facing downtown.
"No clue. I've been awake about a minute longer than you have. Besides, until they are willing to give us something to wear that isn't an open-backed top, I'm not sure we can really go anywhere. Whoever they are. Kinda surprised nobody has come in by now. I mean, we aren't being particularly quiet."
Mindy gets a curious look on her face and says: "Inventory." Immediately seeing what she was going for, Dave follows suit. On the left side of the 'screen' is a fairly typical manikin that shows a huge number of possible places where clothing, armor, weapons, and accessories can be placed. On the right side is a square grid, ten by ten. There is a slider on the side to show that there is more than can be accessed, and the twenty purple background squares are easily visible.
Two of them have something in them. One is a cardboard box, and the other is a plastic case about the size that a box a pair of tall boots might come in, save for flatter. He recognizes it as the carrying case that his pair of tonfa came in. After a few moments of experimenting and he finds that he can access it easily enough by reaching into the screen and touching the item. It seems to stick to his hand somewhat, as it grows from a shrunken icon to a full-sized object. Putting the weapons on his bed he pulls out the box. Which proves to have his iconic green suit in it as well as his boots, a change of clothes, and finally the pieces of armor that Mindy's father had worn. He was the last to use them. In a bloody showdown against the epic douche that had decided to be their nemesis. But he still looks guiltily over at Mindy as he pulls the black Kevlar with added plates for extra protection out of the box.
She is beaming at him and nodding excitedly at the prospect. It's easy to forget sometimes, he thinks, just how crazy this girl can be. Then he notices something.
The manikin is wearing a hospital gown. He frowns a bit, then reaches up and removes the gown from his inventory.
He feels a rather cold breeze from the air conditioning. Everywhere. A gasp and giggle, along with him realizing that he is now holding in his hand the clothing that was recently on him, has him frantically pawing through the box and all but throwing the underwear, blue jeans, a shirt featuring a stylized picture of Hit-Girl that was drawn as though she was the fourth PowerPuff girl, and boots into the left side of his inventory. He is a little confused about the shirt because he knows he didn't even bring that shirt to Miami. It is his favorite shirt, for all kinds of reasons. But he'd been a little worried about what his friend might have said had she had seen it.
A disappointed "Awww..." comes from the other side of the room, and by the time he turns back around she is also dressed in the same thing she wore to the steakhouse. A t-shirt with a 'Dark Side of the Moon' album cover print on it, a pair of hip-huggers that Dave isn't sure she should actually be able to get on without a shoehorn or this gamer thing helping, and a pair of black combat boots to contrast his brown and steel-toed work boots.
Then she sees the shirt and it's obvious wear and smirks. As the two of them take a moment to put everything back into their inventories that they aren't wearing, she can't help the snark.
"You know Dave if you want me to cuddle you that much? Just wrap me around you and explore every inch? You only have to ask. I understand. A young man like you? I bet you have all kinds of needs. Just a needy little boy..."
Dave is in the process of trying to compete with a tomato from the neck up, and mumbles in his defense.
"Just missed you is all. Not like I know anyone else that understands. It's been what, three years? You're still the only friend I have that I'd trust with... Well, anything important I guess."
There is a moment of silence in the room as Mindy looks down a bit to hide her own embarrassment. Then she jerks a thumb at the door.
"Ready to get the hell out of here?"
He looks at her confused. "Shouldn't we wait for a doctor?"
She shrugs. "Why, you feel sick?" She all but snickers at his look of confusion, but instead schools her features into as innocent a smile as she can.
"Well, no. But isn't it supposed to work that way?"
She looks at him in feigned confusion.
"Did you check yourself in?"
"Um. No?"
"Then let's get out of here, dumb ass. Before somebody shows up asking a bunch of questions that I'm sure I don't want to answer."
Having run out of responses to this, he moves up behind her as she eases the door open. After a whisper of: "Looks clear." The two step out and attempt to make their way while looking as though they both know where they are going, and have every right to be there. Finding a public, non alarmed exit isn't difficult, though Dave stops dead in his tracks when he exists and looks across the skyline. The enormous black tower, hundreds, maybe thousands of stories tall and that sits on the other side of town like the world's most obvious fortress of doom has caused him to seemingly turn to stone for all the movement he makes. A pair of men in body armor that has obviously designed to be intimidating with its black, overbuilt design and white, vaguely inhuman helm is just across the plaza and seems to be glaring at anyone passing by. From a speaker not too far off they can hear a voice droning on. Attempting to be chipper, but just as obviously reading from a prepared script.
"And so, whether you are here to stay or passing through on your way to parts unknown, welcome to city 17. It's safer here."
Dave looks down at a thoroughly confused Mindy and his lips are a thin line.
"I don't know how, but we ended up in a game I've played. And we are completely screwed."
Author's note:
This is my first attempt at a "Gamer" style fic, and I thought it might be fun to actually start them in a game for a change. One of my favorite games, that has sadly been not well represented in fan-fiction to the best of my knowledge. Half-Life.
For the record, no. They won't be staying here forever. They will be here for a while, do some good, and then they'll get shuffled off to another fandom. Shhh. Don't tell them. It's a surprise.
I'll admit, I am not really expecting much of a following on this unless it just comes from people doing searches for "Gamer" because neither the game world they are in nor the "Kick-Ass franchise seems to get a lot of love here. Complicated of course because due to the number of fandoms that will eventually, end up part of this train wreck I have in my brain, it will probably end up with the crossover designations being "Kick-Ass" and some combination of "misc, various, other" or whatever I can find that looks promising.
For anybody that has never come across a "gamer" fic before, I want to say that I will not be doing walls of stat sheets very often. I really don't like running into that constantly when I am reading, so I am going to assume you don't either. But I felt establishing a baseline was important so that's what I did here.
For the record, I DO NOT claim any rights to anything in this story. Honestly, I won't even claim the plot. If you want to do something with it, go nuts. My only request would be that you let me know so I can see your take on the ideas, and a not on the story to give me credit.