Awoken 1.3

Mark dropped me off a few hours later, having convinced me to help serve food in the meantime.

"You're sure this is the place?" he asked as I unbuckled my seatbelt. "I can take you farther, if you need to."

"No, it's fine. I'm meeting some friends here in a few hours." At least, I hoped they'd be friendly. This could go pear-shaped very quickly, otherwise. "I'll find plenty to do in the meantime." I opened the door, got out, and turned back in. "Thanks, Mark. You've really helped me out."

"Think nothing of it. It's what I do. In fact," he dug into his pocket, pulling out a bill. "Here."

"Mark…"

"No, I insist. Pay me back by showing others some kindness too."

I reluctantly took the 20. "I'll be sure to, in that case." I definitely would, if things went to plan. "I owe you for this, too."

"No, you don't, but it would be good to see you in church tomorrow. I've got to get back."

I winced a bit. I almost certainly wasn't gonna be at that service, one way or another. "Okay. Safe driving," I replied, not voicing my doubts. "And thanks again." I shut the door, and he drove off.

"Okay," I said to the evening air, "Now what?"

I ended up just walking around a while. Lars Bertrom Street was in the Commercial district, so I took my time window shopping. Eventually, I spotted a nice little nerd shop, and bought a cheap but serviceable cloth mask, the 'faceless hood' kind. It really sucked, but until I could reinvent a Mindwall Helmet from scratch (and that might never happen), it would have to do. Plus, the black stretchy fabric tied into my futuristic clothing quite nicely.

Pocketing my 8 bucks change after reminding myself that yes, they do indeed use dollar coins in this universe, no the cashier isn't handing me quarters, thank you sir, I walked out of the store. Finding a bench that was two blocks down from 7th street, I dug out my commpad once more. I spent the next few hours jotting down what I remembered of the rules, skills, etc. I wasn't entirely clear on the psychic class skills, but I remembered most of the dice rolls and equipment stats fairly well. I did know exactly what every psychic power could do; since I knew that I shouldn't, I figured this was a compromise. I still noted them down, building the trees for later consideration.

Finally, the time came. I stood up, looked around, and ducked into an alcove to don my mask. Making my way over to the intersection, I leaned against a wall outside a clothing boutique and waited.

Ten minutes later, the duo showed up, decked out in pretty standard COD overdone military uniforms. I didn't see a camera drone, so this was likely a private affair. Good.

I broke from the wall, casually making my way across the small intersection. The bigger one- Uber, I imagined- raised his gun slightly, and I stopped, raising my hands to somewhere between 'calm down' and 'please don't shoot me'.

"Stay back. No funny business," Uber said, lowering the gun.

I raised my voice. "How am I supposed to talk privately from way over here?"

Leet shrugged. "Convince us, then we can talk. Otherwise we walk."

Okay, a persuade check. Please don't fail me now.

Persuade Check (Cha): Rolled 5+0 vs. difficulty 8. Fail.

"I… I'm not from here. No allies, no money, nothing. I need some help." Dammitall.

"So, you're just looking to freeload off some losers? Good fucking pitch."

"No, no, that came out wrong." They were turning to go. Fuck the persuade skill. Truth time. "I think I can help Leet with his tech problems!"

They stopped, and turned back. I already knew what they were going to say.

"Bullshit," they said in unison.

"It's true. I think I can reverse engineer tech to some degree, but I need help and support or I'll never get anywhere. I figured we could help each other out!"

They turned and started whispering to each other. Shit, this was fucking tense. Maybe the GM thought writing a story with dice rolls was interesting, but for God's sake, at least choose between the main character being aware of the results, or completely unaware that their fate was ruled by randomness. This was just hell.

They turned back to me. Uber spoke up. "Come on. We're going somewhere less public."

Making Travel Checks...

A warehouse? How cliché can you get? I mean, the only reason we weren't in the Boat Graveyard was because that was clear across town.

One thing was sure. I was really getting tired of walking. Sore feet tomorrow, for sure.

The duo turned around as I pulled the door shut behind me. Leet spoke first. "Okay, explain. What the hell do you mean, you can help me with my tech?"

I'd been thinking about how to answer this as we walked in silence, and eventually had decided on some discretion. As much as I knew they likely had played a tabletop game before, that was all the more reason to not tell them I was one. Especially as a mage-type character: the phrase 'linear fighter, geometric wizard' applied, and I didn't need them to know how powerful I had the potential to be. Plus, it would be good to save my psychic powers for a rainy day; I didn't want to be a villain forever, and a new powerset would make obscuring my past that much easier.

"Right, my power," I began, "basically makes me a super-scientist." I was intentionally wording it poorly; making a point by downplaying it, so they would be more inclined to take me in when I finished. The Intelligent approach instead of the Charismatic one.

Persuade Check (Int): Rolled 8+1 vs. difficulty 8. Pass.

Leet scoffed. "No shit, you're a tinker. Why do you think that would help?" Yup, just as planned. Guess I made the persuade check.

"Not a Tinker," I clarified, "A Thinker. Learning ability and inventiveness, reverse engineering, a few other skills." I paused for effect. "I have no tech tree, no arbitrary specialization. Just science, and the capacity to learn."

"…Holy shit." Leet's gun arm was slack. Hook.

I smiled behind the stupid cloth mask. "So, you can see why I wanna team up with the two guys who can build everything and be good at anything. I'm not normally one for villainy; more of a nuetral good, if you know what I mean; but I figured we could help each other out. Besides, you guys could use something to boost your reputation." That was the line; give them a reason why I'm doing this. I shrugged as I continued to the sinker. "Here's my solution: You let me join your team for a month, I do my best to help you guys in return for a place to crash, and we decide if this will work in the long term after that." After Leviathan, that is, unless I manage to butterfly that away in less than a month.

Uber interjected, "You can't just walk up and expect-" Leet cut him off with a hand on his shoulder, and took him aside again. I waited, looking around at the dark and dingy warehouse, worrying a bit when the duo got heated, wondering what I should invent first, and so on. A charger for my power cells? A weapon? Probably a weapon.

They turned back, and while Uber's lips were pressed tight, Leet was smiling. "Okay," he said, "We accept. One month, then we talk, but for now? Welcome to the group, Fatty."

Objective completed. 700 xp.

"Thanks." I'd have to be careful around Uber at first, but I was in. "Now, let's get out of this cliché meeting place."

Designing Location...

Thankfully, they had an SUV; I probably would have cried if I had to walk anymore today. I'd walked around ten miles without prep or any recent exercise, and my legs were really starting to feel it. I quietly resolved to start exercising again, because it might mean the difference between life and death.

Then again, I was a tabletop character now; I should be able to move at 20-40 meters per six seconds when in combat, unless the GM is ignoring that rule. I know I wouldn't ignore it if I was in charge of this ride, but there was still the off chance that this was my actual reality now. So maybe just exercise for the sake of it. It couldn't hurt.

Their 'base' turned out to be a duplex just off the Boardwalk. Nice location, and certainly not somewhere I'd have expected two supervillains to live. I said as much as we walked from the SUV, now unmasked and in normal clothes.

"Thanks, I guess?" Leet sounded skeptical. "It's good that we don't have a cliché lair, but you might be disappointed when we get inside."

"Why would I be disappointed?"

Uber unlocked the door, and I got a glimpse of the living room.

"Because," Leet said, "We don't clean much."

The living room was a trash heap straight out of some kind of neckbeard's home décor magazine.

"Yay," I said flatly. "Truly, you two are at the forefront of abolishing gamer stereotypes. I am honored to be a part of such a progressive team."

"Oh, shut up and grab some pizza boxes. It's not like we ever have guests over."

I grabbed some of the aforementioned boxes, piling them high on one hand as I continued. "Fair, but not an excuse. Pizza boxes are not a substitute for tables." I grabbed one of the 2-liter bottles and stuffed it into the crook of my box-holding arm. "This is ridiculous. Just recycle them."

Uber responded this time. "You think we're gonna haul every pizza box we get down to the recycling center?"

Right, east coast. They didn't do street service here, I guess. "Maybe? It's better than making your duplex smell like rotting tomato sauce and Mountain Dew." I dumped the load in Uber's trash bag. "I'm not a clean freak or anything, but this is basic renting etiquette. And don't give me the supervillain excuse, you guys aren't on the clock."

Leet sighed. "Yes, mom. We'll try to be better." We spent the next few minutes gathering trash, occasionally letting out sounds of disgust or remarking at something found. Eventually, I asked if they had a vacuum, sighed when the obvious answer was given, and helped tie off bags.

After that, we plopped onto the couch. Leet walked over and handed out some controllers. "Sorry, but you get the gimp controller," he said as he passed me one, "The stick doesn't return to center. N64 controllers are hard to find."

"No problem," I said as I took it, "I'm familiar with the issue. Had a N64 myself."

We fired up Smash Bros. 64, picking characters. Uber took Captain Falcon, Leet took Samus, and I ran my main: Kirby.

"Really?" Leet said, then shrugged. "Okay then." He hit random map, and the Pokémon stage loaded up.

"So," I said as the game started, "Names?"

"I'm Zach," Leet said, as I broke into a sprint, ramming into Falcon.

"Richard," Uber followed, responding to my attack with a down-special.

"And I'm Grant." I floated my way clear across the map and turned into a rock, smashing Samus Falcon's way. Let them fight it out; I had my eye on a capsule. Falcon punched a Falcon Punch, and I threw the capsule to chain off the attack, knocking Samus even higher. Falco and I rushed to grab the hammer that popped out, but he was too focused on the item. I paused just before the hammer, sucking him in as he grabbed it, and spat him off the roof, into the gap between buildings. The extra weight of the hammer did the rest. 1 life down, four to go.

I taunted for good measure, then promptly got kicked in the face for it by an angry Samus.

Ah, Smash. How I missed you.

Inventing New Items...

We played a few games, till about midnight, then Richard had decided to hit the sack. Zach, however, was a tinker who had been promised tinker things, and upon finding out that I was probably good till at least 3 or 4, he'd escorted me to the SUV and driven to a much shittier part of town. We eventually arrived at an abandoned car repair shop, an old Jiffy Lube or something, and he snuck us inside.

"So, here's the workshop," Zach said, "Let me show you around."

The place was in surprisingly good shape. Outside, it was shabby and grey, with peeling paint and plywood windows, but the garage area was swept clean and dotted with various large workstations, and tools both recognizable and completely unknown to me. The one notable exception to the cleanliness; there were piles of futuristic tech and game items lining the back wall.

"Okay, the workstations are, in order," he began pointing them out, "Parts, welding, machining, circuitry, microcircuitry, programming, forging, general chemistry, drafting, and woodworking. The lifts can be reconfigured for big jobs, too."

I raised an eyebrow. "Woodworking?"

He scowled. "Some stuff needs the decorative touch!"

"Fair enough." I walked over to the scrap, quietly hoping for good rolls in my near future. Stroking my goatee, I looked over the pile. "Okay, I need something on the more basic side of things, preferably with minimal chance of exploding." I've only messed with Tinkertech once, and I got lucky that time. "I also need an advanced physics textbook or something, and some information on your power." That last bit was not actually necessary; I just needed a way to point out that his power was deliberately sabotaging him.

"I don't have the textbook, but you can use the programming station to look up stuff, I guess." Zach crouched down, shuffling through the pile a bit, and dug out an item that I instantly recognized as one of the discs from Tron. "This should work for the tech, I guess."

I took it, and made my way over to the multi-monitor setup or the programming station. "I'll be a bit, sorry. Gotta reacquaint myself with the fundamental forces."

"No problem, I guess. I'll figure out something to do."

I turned to the computer, adjusted my glasses, and began searching for physics videos, articles, and papers. As I did so, I started thinking about my goals.

So, science and tech. SWN has some pretty crazy sci-fi stuff going on, and I had a bunch of stuff I needed to do to tap into that.

It all started with this one guy, Doctor Tiberius Crohn. I had a character who worshipped him once. Great mind. Completely insane, but you tend to get that with mad scientists. According to the story, around 2100, Dr. Crohn discovered the Spike Drive, the game's FTL travel system, singlehandedly. He did so in secret, while in exile on a bombed-out, irradiated Greenland, over the course of several years. The story gets crazier from there, but the point is that a crazy physicist, with no access to future tech and no way to confirm his findings, managed to do the impossible, and catapulted humanity to the stars.

The thing is, Spike Drives, and by extension psychic powers (which are related to the form of travel), run on expanded laws of physics, ones based on completely insane assumptions about the universe. Vanilla physics would only help me so far. Plus, I had no idea how Metadimensional physics and powers would interact with the fourth-dimensional powers of the Entities.

If I was ever going to reach my full potential, I had to do three things, and I had to do them in less than a decade.

One, I had to invent metadimensional physics, creating a single, unified system that would open the gateway to new heights of technology and power. Ironically, this should be the easiest of my tasks- I knew it was possible, and 'I' had the background and skills for it, so it should be far from impossible. It was probably just a matter of time.

Second, and most time-consuming and dangerous by far: I had to redevelop hundreds of years of progress in the psychic disciplines. This would mean mastering several of the existing power trees, developing new powers, improving my fine manipulation and physics fuckery using every trick in the book, and creating new tricks when old ones were insufficient. My psitech skill should help with this, allowing me to mess with tech that channeled and altered metadimensional effects to learn more about the effects themselves; but until I had a metadimensional unified field theory, my chances of building more than the most rudimentary of psitech weaponry would be slim to none. Plus, even with psitech at hand, it would take years of leveling and training to complete my next objective, and messing around with wisdom-and-constitution-destroying energies would probably be bad for my health in general. And again, to do any of that, I had to kill Jack Slash and cancel the apocalypse, and boy was I looking forward to that!

My third and final, end goal: I had to reinvent future technology. Using my knowledge of metadimensional energy and mastery of psychic powers, I would recreate the techniques that allowed advanced pretech to bend physics over its knee and make it scream for mercy. I had the Pretech skill, which was good, because you have to have that skill already in order to advance the skill on your own, without a trainer. Tinkertech seemed to count, but it was always going to be missing vital parts, and I would have to bridge those gaps with reproduceable technology.

I could do all this from all sorts of different places. Maybe I could join the Guild? Go smack some sense into Cauldron? Be a loner? Hell, I could stay with Uber and Leet, although they might resent me for founding the relationship on lies. I had no idea what my plans were after Leviathan, besides killing Jack and the aforementioned rewrite of everything science thought it knew.

I did know one thing, actually: If I survived Golden Morning without being reduced to an insane, reality-warping monster, then the human race would go straight from their doomsday to a galaxy-spanning, dimension-jumping, superpower-wielding futuristic society.

But, you know, no pressure.