Chapter Four: Boardwalk and Perk Talk
Friday morning passed uneventfully into the afternoon. Practice spent tracking my position on the Map during the drives to and from school served as the extent of my power interaction. Using the Map in an active situation would be disadvantageous, the full field of view obstruction distracting me from my surroundings, but I was getting faster at switching back and forth.
I sent a message to my parents that I had arrived safely and veered off to the predetermined meetup spot for our hangout.
The Boardwalk was busy, no surprise for a Friday evening. Brockton Bay's prime tourist destination bustled with activity from shopgoers and sightseers, a throng of humanity providing vital lifeblood to the economy of a dying city. Shops, boutiques, and stalls of all varieties lined the broad wood plank walkway on both sides, and behind the eastside buildings stretched the city's sole section of beach unsullied by used needles or broken glass bottles. The Protectorate Headquarters shimmered out in the bay, a reminder to the populace that this area was under the protection of heroes, a warning to villains that their dastardly deeds should be kept well clear. Burly men in dark clothing watched from corners and storefronts, enforcers paid to remain vigilant for petty thieves and pickpockets. Woe to any who incurred their wrath for the enforcers delivered swift and brutal punishment to those caught red handed, unsuspecting or careless criminals leaving with more bruises and broken bones than they bargained for. A microcosm of the Bay, the Boardwalk was a separate world within the city, kind to those upstanding citizens who carried cash for the vendors and street performers, or at least those who could pretend to be the kind of citizen the Boardwalk tolerated.
Samuel's memories seemed to dye everything I cared about in somber colors. A part of me had always been aware of the wealth disparity that the Boardwalk represented. Here was a shining jewel in the bay, frequented by the affluent with the means to make to afford the marked up prices, and a mere couple blocks away, a few minutes of walking, the decrepit warehouses of the Docks sat abandoned by all but the homeless and destitute. I knew this, but I never knew it. Not like those suffering from the economic depression knew it in their broken spirits. Perhaps I still didn't understand beyond the intellectual level, that until I experience the worst of the Bay, I have no idea what the other half of this city lives through on a daily basis. There is, after all, a reason why so many self-inserts find themselves dreading ending up in Brockton Bay.
Now I've gone and put myself in a sour mood. This was supposed to be a fun outing. Well, I bet Ymena can cheer me up, I thought, spotting her off to the side of the crowd. There's a gal with some spirit in her.
"Heyyy, over here cutie~ Donchu ignore me~" my friend wildly gesticulated as if to get my already rapt attention.
Yes Ymena, I see you, I thought, a smile cracking through my melancholy, "Oh? Are you gonna treat me to a good time? Take me out to dinner?"
"Mhm. Why, for a gorgeous gal like you, I'll treat you to dinner and more~ Wink wink. Nudge nudge."
This elicited a deepening of my smile, "Alright, what are we doing today?"
"How about we hit up the boutiques first? We can find a nice blouse to pair with your closet full of jeans. Then we'll go wherever you want and decide where to grab a bite after."
"Sounds good to me," I was not a big spender on clothing, but I could shill out for a single top to humor a friend.
Our shopping trip could be broken down into one quarter window shopping, another quarter trying on outfits, and the rest goofing off, all the while making the type of meaningless chatter that close friends can and not feel awkward.
My token blouse, white with blue floral patterns, only set me back $15. The treasury could bear such expense. Ymena was much more excited than me during the whole affair, having a greater interest in fashion.
Now it was my turn to choose our destination. I decided on The Gilded Crest, a metalworking-centric arts and crafts shop. Their artisans smelted metals on site to be worked into jewelry, emblems, and other trinkets. The shop's claim to fame lay in the fine filigree painstakingly worked into prohibitively expensive items.
The Gilded Crest also advertised public viewing of the crafting process. Suffice to say this would be more window shopping.
We joined a small crowd gathered watching the smiths at work. Tongs extracted a crucible from the blasting heat of the furnace, molten metal glowing white hot. Using deft movements, the smith poured the crucible's contents into a series of ring casts, metal flowing like water. At the other workstation, a jeweler was etching into a ring with a set of high precision tools.
Something about the display called to me, to shape metal with a hammer and tongs, to bask in the heat of the forge. My Smithing skill gatekeeped a huge selection of the most powerful artifacts from Skyrim, many requiring a grandmaster level talent. I was beginning to catch glimmers of Smithing's true potential, for beyond swords and shields and breastplates, Smithing granted the power to bring to life the greatest wonders of Skyrim.
Ymena jostled me, "Wanna go check out the shop?" I think she may be getting bored of watching the smithy.
"Sure," I agreed.
Yep, this was much more her style. That rambunctious rascal flitted from display case to display case eyeing the jewelry the way a magpie eyes shinies.
"Oh Sam, how do you think this would look on me?" Ymena pointed to a prominently displayed (behind reinforced glass) brooch with some kind of white metal worked into flower petals and a large citrine gem in the center.
I glanced at the listed price, "Hmm, tell you what, if you start making approximately six more figures than you do now, we can find out."
"Pbbbbbbt," Did she just blow a raspberry at me? "Pbbt pbbt," Yes, she did.
"You are so immature."
"You love me for it. And you're a massive nerd."
"And you love me for it too."
"Yes we do Sam. Every group needs the smart one. The straight man."
"I am not straight, nor am I a man."
"Fine, from now on you'll be the gifted bicurious woman of our group," she paused, "with no sense of humor."
"I have a sense of humor!" I exclaimed in mock outrage, "I even find you funny once or twice a year."
"Oh you find me funny? That's great news! I'll step up my game just for you."
"Har-har."
We stopped our little impromptu skit to look over some of the items within our price range, and by that I mean we had enough money to buy a piece if we didn't want to eat afterwards. Unfortunately for Ymena, this was not an establishment where trying on the wares was accepted etiquette.
We ended our browsing once one of the shop clerks began to hover around us. It was a little rude to treat customers like potential criminals, but then again, we live in Brockton Bay.
It was late enough to go eat anyways, and we decided on a cafe down by the beachside, ordering coffee with a tray of scones and muffins. Indulging in sweets and pastries every once in a while was fine right? Besides, there has to be some sort of magical or scientific solution for my figure somewhere in my catalog of powers.
As we sat at our table making small talk and partaking in the sweet delights, I noticed a peculiar person a couple booths over. Actually, labeling them as peculiar might be the wrong description. Something about her just jumped out to me in my head. Blonde with green eyes and a cute dusting of freckles on her upper face. I wouldn't say that she was supermodel-gorgeous, but she was very pretty with a strong girl next door vibe.
She was talking with a slender framed boy (or they could have been a girl too) with their back turned to me showing off dark curly hair.
I couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that I should have known this person. She was uncannily familiar to me. I swear it's on the tip of my tongue.
Ymena took that moment to interrupt my train of thought, "Sooo, checking out another blonde huh? I see you have a type."
"You know I was looking at Amy, not Vicky," I protested, realizing far too late that I had handed her not just ammunition but the whole loaded gun.
"Ohhhhhh, so it's the freckles that do it for you," Her smugness could shatter mountains and fell empires.
"Shuddup shuddup shuddup."
"Alright, alright no more teasing," she placated me, "until the next time I catch you checking out some hot guy or gal."
"You're impossible."
"Thank you."
"Not a compliment."
"I take what I can get."
"Uh-huh."
We polished off the rest of our plates. Officially done with our outing, we walked a block inland to where Ymena's mom was waiting to pick us up. It wasn't safe for two girls to walk alone or ride the buses in the city at night, especially when one of them had the "wrong kind of background" according to Empire skinheads.
Mrs. Sayadi dropped me off at our driveway, and I wished my friend a good night. I called out to Mom that I was home and rushed to sequester myself in my room.
Let's finish all of my homework before the weekend.
After three days of having powers, I'd acclimated to my new routine of Restoration leveling sessions broken up by chunks of homework and texting. I'd figured out that I could check on my progress from the Skills screen, but I didn't bother to look more than a couple times an hour, feeling that there was no reason to distract myself more than I already was. So I was mildly startled when I got a double notification.
RESTORATION INCREASED TO 6
LEVEL UP
It had happened at last! I was now Level 2. In my eagerness, I practically threw my mind into the Skills screen where I was greeted with the choice of advancing my Magicka, Health, or Stamina by 10 points. Unlike Samuel's playthrough of the game, I did not immediately discount Stamina as an option. All three attributes provided important utility. Did I want more firepower, survivability, or maneuverability? When I broke them down into their fundamental essences, the choice seemed clear. I wanted to be able to survive more attacks, and Health would let me do that. However… there were many subtleties muddying the waters. For instance, the warding spells from the school of Restoration and flesh spells from Alteration provided enhanced durability while healing spells could rapidly regenerate Health. On the other hand, there's a chance no amount of defenses can stop the most powerful parahuman abilities from draining all my Health in a single hit. In that case, it might be more beneficial to have a larger maximum Health pool.
Agh! Indecision! I have to make a choice, and I'll dump my points into Health as general coverage for now.
That done, I needed to make yet another hard decision. Which of the eighteen Skill Trees should I put my perk into? Every Skill Tree had one zero level requirement perk at the base. This was the first time I had bothered to read the perk descriptions, and I was startled to find they differed from the in game ones. Every perk retained the original description but appended an additional effect that would grant general benefits. For example, the first perk in the Smithing Skill Tree, named Steel Smithing, read, "Can create steel armor and weapons at forges, and improve them twice as much. Gain mastery over the forging and crafting of mundane metals to smith with Skyforge-trained skill."
The extra benefits were game changers, turning what would be an otherwise pointless waste of a perk blocking the path to higher tiers into a useful pickup.
The surprises didn't stop there however, new features I missed upon first inspection uncovered by further digging. There were extra stars between the constellations, perks that did not exist in Skyrim at all. These isolated stars were connected by wispy trails to multiple skill trees, a fact reflected in their multi-skill requirements. From their high skill level requirements and flowery descriptions, I got the sense that these would end up being my most powerful capstone perks.
I mean just look at this ridiculousness, five separate skill requirements, Alteration, Enchanting, Speech, Smithing, and Illusion all at level 100! With prerequisites that insane, it had better be a Triumvirate tier power.
What the heck even is Tonal Architecture? That ludicrous name popped up nowhere in Samuel's memories, so it must not have been featured prominently in Skyrim. If it wasn't mentioned once in hundreds of hours of playtime, then it must have been hidden in the background lore. Hmm, there is that mission to Blackreach where Septimus Sigmus gives the player those Dwemer artifacts. I recall the strange sphere and cube being connected to music or attunement. Are they related to Tonal Architecture? For once, my power refused to inform me. Not even a hint.
Consider my curiosity piqued, oh mystical powers.
That's enough ogling at future developments. It's time to choose a perk.
Novice Restoration was nice. In addition to halving the cost of Healing, I would receive a basic understanding of the biology of wildlife from Skyrim. Combo-perks between the Restoration and Conjuration constellations promised summoning of all manner of beasts.
Very interesting, but my heart was stolen by Steel Smithing. There might be perks with more immediate benefits, but my artistic side drooled at the creative possibilities of the Smithing perks.
I confirmed my perk choice.
I was expecting information to be shoved into my head akin to the Wednesday morning fiasco. Instead, I was enveloped by a cloud of energy. The fog absorbed through my skin, passing muscle tissue and organs without effect until the intangible streamers reached my Magicka channels.
Inside, the energy cloud condensed coursing around the magic delivering canals, redispersing into my physical body after circulating through my core. This was accompanied by a fuzzy feeling concentrated in my arms and brain. Almost like the pins and needles felt from waking up a numb limb.
Then it was finished, and I was forever altered. I knew the forge. It was an old comrade sharing his roaring heat to shape metal and his smoldering warmth against the cold tundra. A lifetime of experience rolled not into memories, but a surety that I could pick up a blacksmith's hammer and weild it with confidence.
What the perk did not do was manifest the necessary tools into existence. I'd have to source those myself, and I let out a despondent sigh lamenting the lack of resources available to me. Government sponsored tinkering had never looked so appealing.
My choices were made and the excitement was over. I could stay up late grinding experience, but I would be busy tomorrow morning, and I wasn't ready to give up on a good night's sleep.
Tomorrow, after chores and grocery shopping, I'd finally purchase the materials to build a Pip-Boy.