November 26th, 2010 - Brockton Bay

The first thing William noticed when he woke up was that his head fucking hurt. It felt like the mother of all migraines was rampaging, and his brain was going through a blender of agony. Just what he fucking needed.

The second thing he noticed was that he was starving. No shit. You didn't finish eating last night, idiot.

No, not like that. Well, not just like that. He was starving for…something other than food? Starving for work. His dad had a leather jacket, genuine stuff, too. He could take it and rip it apart, use the materials for-

Wait, what? That would mean going into his parent's bedroom! That would mean ripping apart their things! There's no way in fucking hell he was doing that!

Well, what about the garage then? There were a lot of unused materials in there. Old tools, worn from use and a source of good iron or steel. He could do a lot with that. Maybe fashion a bit of armour, or a weapon or tool of his own. Not that he needed one, but-

No. He wasn't tearing apart his dad's tools for some bullshit fantasy-esque armour or weapons. Fuck off.

Fine. He'd work with what he had, then. There should have around a ton of materials in his Workshop if he needed. Not the best of stuff, no history in them, and only basics like iron, copper, tin, hides, etc but they would, he guessed. At least until he got his hands on the good stuff…

William dragged himself to a sitting position, grimaced at the blood all over his floor from his nose and hand, and rubbed his eyes. Then, he took a good, long, look back at the thoughts that just ran through his head.

"...What the fuck?!"

Ok, this is clearly some power bullshittery at work. What am I, some kinda Tinker? No, didn't seem right, and he didn't feel like taking apart his laptop. Well, he did, but only to get his hands on the metals inside. Those were rare. Ok, not a Tech one. So, what the hell can I do?

Anything involving my hands. The thought came to him suddenly.

"...Anything involving my hands? So, like, what, knitting?" William joked, then jolted as a rush of knowledge hit him. Yes, he could knit. Hell, he could tailor entire wardrobes in an afternoon. He was an expert tailor.

Unless he wanted a jacket that let him fly - that would take the better part of an evening, and he'd need some decent quality materials. That bomber jacket his dad got him from Goodwill might do the trick when paired with his old halloween costume from last year…

"Right. Enchanted item crafting, then." William leaned back, resting his back and head against his bed. "But I need to tear apart items with memories. What bullshit coping power is this? Is this God's way of saying "get over it?"

No, memories are just the best source of power now. He has to grow. To get stronger, more skilled, he has to achieve a deeper understanding. He knew this, deep in his core. He was an Expert in All Things With His Hands, but he could go further.

"..." William closed his eyes and carefully prodded that well of knowledge that settled in the back of his head. Right near the source of his mega-headache.

Blacksmithing? Yes. Tailoring? Yes. Carpentry? Yes. Leatherworking? Yes. Those were the obvious ones, which he knew from his dabbling in games. But, what about prerequisites? What about a few more specialized or exotic skills? Other crafting, non-item related skills that involved his hands? Smelting, Tanning, Weaving? Yes. Masonry, Jewelcrafting, Etching, Sculpting, Painting? All yes.

"So, anything I would use my hands, hand tools, or similar? Even art?" Yes. "What about…electrician? Mechanic?"

No.

"Right. We're back to the Dark Ages then. Great. I'll just kill fucking Lung with a sword and shield." William grumbled, banging his head off his bed. Frustrated that he couldn't get a Tinker power that gave him a fucking rail gun or something.

Then his power kicked into action and showed him the types of swords and shields he could make. And what kind of properties those items might hold. His head banging ceased, and his eyes opened.

…Let's see about that "Workshop," shall we? William got to his feet, threw open his door, and sprinted towards the staircase. Making his way downstairs and towards the garage.

From what he could puzzle out, he didn't need space, or at least not a lot. But, with a word like "Workshop," he didn't want to take chances. The family garage wasn't very full these days - what with his dad's car having been totalled during…the incident. All that remained was his mom's Focus. His old Century was parked out in the driveway.

Maybe he'd use that for scrap? Hmm…

Focus, Will. Turning his attention to the open spot in the garage, he willed this "Workshop" to appear.

Nothing happened. He tried again. Nope. Nada.

"Uhhh…Power? Help?" William asked the air. He received no response. "Fucking figures. How am I supposed to make any of this crap, then? I don't own a fucking forge-"

The moment the word crossed his lips, there was a forge in his garage. It took up a shitload of space, too. Damn near pressing against his mom's car. There was a smelter, an anvil, a quenching barrel, filled with what looked like oil, bellows, all the necessary components to be a blacksmith.

"Oh. I mean, I guess that makes sense…I don't have space for everything, huh?" Yeah, William didn't know how he would have fit tanning, tailoring, gemcutting, jewelcrafting, etc all in this garage.

Looking over everything, William's newfound expertise allowed him to understand that, while this was all "good enough," it was hardly anything spectacular. He could, at best, forge iron tools, weapons, and armour. He would struggle to create anything with steel, and wouldn't even be able to consider Mithril, Adamant, or Orichalcum.

"...Are those even options?" William was pretty sure those were all mythological or fantasy metals.

Yes. It was possible. But not now. Not with his current Understanding.

"Right. Cryptic fantasy adventure bullshit, got it. So, where's my tools? Wait…Blacksmithing tools." William made sure to elaborate on what he wanted.

A hammer slid into existence across the anvil he'd seen earlier, and William could tell there was…something off about it. It looked normal, sure, and used. But…William knew it wasn't just some plain old hammer. It would change, it would grow. Be more.

"Potential…" William said, whispering the word as he caressed the hammer. "Untapped, unlimited potential…"

Tossing it into the air, William caught it with practiced ease. As if he'd done it a thousand, thousand times over. For the first time in nearly two months, he smiled.

"Fuck the rail gun. I can work with this." Turning to the forge, William nodded. "Let's fire it up."

November 30th, 2010 - Brockton Bay

"There. That should do it." William said, stepping back to admire his work.

A simple suit of bronze and iron plate armour sat on a mannequin, modelled after the ancient Greeks. Iron for the more vital areas, such as his heart, groin, and neck, with bronze for the rest. It was expertly fashioned - and ripped off Dauntless, just a bit. William didn't give a shit, though.

Across the back was a dark blue cape, and to the side were his weapon of choice, an arming sword, and a medium-sized wooden Heater shield. No markings on the shield, armour, or cape, as he wasn't even sure he'd stick with the designs. Or if they'd survive long enough. Maybe next time?

He'd worked on the whole set since he discovered his Workshop and how to access its workstations, only leaving the garage to eat and use the restroom. He'd even called in sick, food poisoning, to skip school. Maybe I should quit? I'm a fucking Cape, what do I need school for? I can craft all day and night, and sell my creations. Hell, I did this in record time!

It'd taken a few days, and dipping into the Workshop's stock of materials - apparently he got around a single ton of materials a month, on request - but he'd done it. Yeah, he had a stock of materials available, of all sorts. That had taken a bit of work to figure out how to access, but after messing with it, he understood it well enough.

There was a single ton of materials available, per 30 days, and that weight applied to all materials. Anything he took out impacted that number, too. So he'd have to be careful later when requesting heavier things like ore or stone. And it only gave raw materials. Nothing refined or processed. This included hides, meats, and more. His ability forced him to personally refine, work with, etc all materials.

If he didn't? Well, it wouldn't give him any help. From Journeyman/Expert, to newb in an instant. No scrap-metal armour for him - he'd have to melt it down and do it himself. This was fine, the results were better that way. More….special he concluded. Lame, dude.

Also, yeah, meat could be requested, too. All sorts of raw food could be. Spices, too, that he had to grind himself in a mortar and pestle. Turns out cooking was included in his skills. Fuck him, right?

Could have used that before I fucked up Thanksgiving. Thanks, God. Either way, his power let him work with all raw materials. Including things he bought. He'd have to purchase the common materials in the future and rely on the Workshop's stock for rare or exotic ones, once he unlocked them.

However the hell he did that.

"This should be good enough, though…" William patted the chest of the armour. "For the first run, at least."

Assuming the enchantments do what they're supposed to. William had no Goddamn idea if they would. If they didn't? Well, it would be the first and only run the moment he met some punk with a gun.

Enchanting was…not like the games. It was more handwavy, cryptic bullshit. He poured intent into the object when he made it, pushed his desires and concepts into it. Some slipped right off, and he guessed he wasn't strong enough yet, or the materials weren't good enough for them. Maybe both, maybe neither.

The armour itself had a number of protective enchantments, designed mostly against kinetic force and fire. He didn't want to die to a bullet, or crushing force, and well, fire…He had lots of fire protection. For obvious reasons…

William didn't expect to meet Lung tonight, but, if he did…

As for the cape? Mostly flight. He didn't know how that worked, or how to use it, but it would let him fly. He was certain of that. The shield was more protection - obviously, it was a fucking shield - and the sword?

Well…

"You're no Excalibur or Durendal, but you could be my Balmung…" William muttered, running his hand across the scabbard. He'd used the best quality iron he could for this. Every forging technique his power could provide to make it the best possible weapon using its materials.

I doubt it'd be enough, but, maybe… William nodded to himself, and his stomach growled. "Right, I need something to eat."

Giving the armour one last pat, William made his way out of the garage and towards the kitchen. Tonight would be a busy night, and he needed all the fuel and rest he could get.

After arguably the best chicken parmesan that he had ever eaten in his life - God Bless his super powered bullshit - and a good nap, William was back in the garage. It was 7:15 P.M, and he had to start getting ready.

The first thing he did was dismiss the Workshop and everything related to it, and the next was to start strapping on his armour. He was wearing his black fencing jacket and pants underneath, to provide warmth, coverage, and a little more protection. That, and if he was going to be sword fighting dragons, he might as well wear something familiar when he was out fighting.

A little different there, Will… For the first time since he got his powers, William felt apprehensive. He'd rushed to get ready to fight, making armour, a weapon, and a shield, but…was he really going to do this?

Was he even ready to do this? Throw down with the biggest and baddest in Brockton Bay? He was 16, for fuck's sake. No support, no team. He didn't even have experience fighting with this type of blade, or the armour! This wasn't like fencing at all! He was just some tall half-Italian kid getting over his head!

What the hell am I even doing? William stared down at the helmet in his hand, a form fitting, pull-over black mask - similar to his fencing ones - clutched in the other. I'm going to get myself killed!

Then he thought of Lung, the ABB, and all the bullshit those fuckers got up to. What that fucking lizard had done, and gotten away with.

He slipped the mask on and practically slammed the helmet down on his head, strapping it tightly to hold it in place. Then, he fitted his cape, grabbed his sword and shield, and strolled towards the garage's backdoor. On his way, he paused and stared at a simple leather cord, laying on a workbench.

He took that too, and wrapped it around his right wrist. Tying it tightly.

Now fully equipped, William strolled out the backdoor and shut it behind himself. Taking a deep breath, he looked around and saw no one nearby. Nodding, he exhaled, turned his gaze to the sky, and gave a single command - addressed to the cloth draped across his back.

Fly. He rose - slowly, uncertain. Like he was standing on a ship for the first time. Thankfully, his years of training at keeping his balance and having quick feet allowed him to adjust somewhat. Another thought and he soaring higher, above his home and those around it.

Another and he was making his way towards the city proper, out of the suburbs he had called home for 16 years.

He wasn't fast, not really. Maybe going as fast as an olympic cyclist, around 25-30 miles per hour. But, he could fly. The enchantment worked! It fucking worked!

That meant all the others would too. What was his power? It wasn't anything like the Tinkers, Trumps, or whatever he'd read about. Even Dauntless' had been…Well, close, but not quite. At least the theories on what his power really did. William remembered…something? Talking to him, maybe? Talking at him, just before he'd blacked out on Thanksgiving.

But I can't remember what it said… Whatever. Didn't matter. All that mattered is it worked.

He could do a lot with this…

Baby steps, Will. Baby steps. You gotta get your footing, first. Yeah. Get his footing. And maybe figure out something better to do with his time than go back to school. Can't even take the money and run, fucking government.

He'd figure it out. For now, though? William set his sights towards the Docks, closer to the East side. If he was going to kick start his Cape career tonight?

He'd do it smashing in ABB skulls.

A/N: William's getting a move on, has his first set of gear, we learn what his power entails, and that's it's a combination of practical skills and some sort of magic (?) with room to grow.

And it's obvious based on his first sword's name where he wants to take his Cape career…