So You Want to Be...
"Spider-Man, Spider-Man," he hummed as he drew up his character. "Damn, his physical stats alone take up way too much... unless..." John chucked the rules and grinned. "Secondary form has enhanced stats at a discount price and best of all, there's no rule saying it can't be human as well. I'll fill in the details for that later."
A slight shiver went through the building, completely unnoticed by John; who, being a native Californian, tended to ignore any quakes under 3.5
"Precog... general," he decided. "I'll work out the spidey sense on that one later. He's a Marvel hero, so enhanced healing is a given. Photographic reflexes is how cheap? Grab that! Ok, what's left?"
A crack ran up the wall behind him, completely unnoticed.
"That's general combat, now he needs the sneakiness... thieves skill set? Huh, that covers a lot, even his acrobatics. What are we missing?"
A crack ran across the ceiling, heading for the ceiling fan far above his head and stopped at the base.
"Spider climb isn't exactly wall crawling and I still need webbing," he decided. "I think they decided his ability was tactile telekinesis and Spider Woman had webbing that was psionic... so dump all remaining points into a variable psionic pool and call it done!"
The water in his glass shook and then the slow gas leak he'd complained to the landlord about finally reached critical... *BOOM*
*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*
John stared at the sheet in his hand, barely able to read it as he floated in light, naked. He noted a lot of red ink used all over it, disallowing some of his choices and culminating in a rather large negative number. He also noted there was a significant size difference between his two forms. "Can I have venom?" he asked, figuring it couldn't hurt to ask.
"NO," came the reply in a voice louder than thunder, the pain of it showing him it could indeed hurt to ask.
"How about any clothes I put on fit perfectly?" he asked, thinking about one of the unmentioned benefits D&D players had over most games.
"Fine," the voice agreed and John felt its deep vibrations carry away his consciousness.
*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*
He awoke with a pounding headache and someone pawing at his tits.
"Get her shirt off," someone barked and John came up swinging.
It was a short fight, for all John's lack of actual skill, his speed and strength made it as easy as kick boxing a bunch of toddlers, even with his pants around his ankles.
"What?" John said as he, or rather she, John noticed, pulled up her pants and caught her breath.
"Are you ok?!" a woman with short, dark hair and a British accent exclaimed, entering the alley.
"Give me a minute and some aspirin," John replied, a quick check showing they hadn't gotten her panties down, much to her relief.
"We should get out of here," she said kindly.
John nodded. "Give me a second first." With practiced efficiency, she rolled the three for valuables and weapons, destroyed their clothes, and was about to break some bones when the British lady stopped her.
"What are you doing?" she asked nervously.
"They tried to rape me," John explained. "Now, I'm not one of those people who consider it a fate worse than death, but I do consider it a crime that deserves a rather painful punishment, so I am going to break the right wrist of everyone involved, so they learn not to do that anymore."
"That's alright then," the woman said, ignoring John's sarcasm. "I was worried you were going overboard."
Three wet cracks sounded as John carried through with their punishment before stuffing them in a dumpster.
As they left the alley, John saw a shocked looking Faith, wearing the exact same outfit she was, standing there.
The British woman looked between the two, surprised. "You have a twin?"
"No," John said, wondering how this was going to play out.
"I - I was being drug into the alley," Faith stuttered out, "and suddenly I was across the street watching it happen!"
John felt rather than heard the jingle of experience points being added to his sheet. "Someone above decided you didn't need to go through this kind of scene," John explained.
"You're an angel?" Faith asked, wide eyed.
"No," John snorted. "If you buy a car, the CEO of Ford doesn't assemble it for you. The buck gets passed as far down as possible." John didn't know where he was getting this information, but it seemed to fit. "I requested a bunch of powers and abilities, so I gotta do a lot of good deeds to pay for 'em."
"Where do I sign up?" Faith asked, having seen John toss around the thugs like they were made of paper.
John chuckled. "Ok, you're next in line. Find a watcher to train you and when the next Slayer falls, you shall pick up the banner."
"Slayer? Watcher?" Faith asked as John left. "I don't know what that means!"
"I think that's my cue," the British woman said. "Can you wait a minute?" she asked John.
John paused. "I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to do a quick fade here, leaving you two to bond and find your own way."
"That'd be annoying as fuck," Faith groaned. "I mean, I got a ton of questions, like what's your name and why or how do you look like me?"
"I'm almost dead certain we'll be meeting up later after you've become the Slayer," John offered.
"I'm still kinda freaking out here," Faith said. "I could use some help."
John sighed. "Fine."
Typing by: Ordieth!
AN: Stole the idea off another author (who stopped writing on an excellent story that was humming along) and filed off the serial numbers, but couldn't think of where to go from here.