A/N: Okay, I'm going to only add the Perk descriptions at the end of the chapter, after I've finished writing it. This is the second time I've been off in my word count, and thusly in my total CP. So, if I forget to put the newly acquired perks into the description box (which I hopefully wont) then you know that is why. A lot of perk descriptions are anywhere between 50 to 400 words in length, so if you have two or three new perks added in the chapter, then thats 150 to 1200 words and it really throws me off.
Addressing character bloat- there will be a LOT of T-Dolls and the like being created, if only because a LOT of shit will need to happen, often within a small time-frame. So lots of T-Dolls will be needed. The majority of them will barely recieve any screen time at all, which some of you will hate, but thats OK- I liken it to your shopping experience at whatever big box store you go to: You always see your cashier, but you rarely ever see the guys and gals stocking the shelves. Still, the work needs to get done regardless. There will be a lot of unsung heroes in the Frontline organization, but that is just the way it is. In my mind it is only character bloat when you're adding too many characters and trying to make sure each one gets a sufficient amount of screen time to catch people's attention. This will not be the case here.
[February 9th, 2011]
[Jason Wilke]
Today was Tiffany's birthday, and that to me was important.
Even though she said she didn't want a present I went out and got her a nice little gift out in town; it was a gold bracelet with chains and a plate. I could only place one enchantment on it, but I chose the Armor Glyph as it would reduce any physical damage she would suffer by a whopping 43%; she didn't go into town that often, but she was quite old, so being able to reduce any damage from a fall that she might sustain could be the difference between her breaking something or not.
I also got her a nice cellphone that I upgraded that she could have with her just in case she needed anything; she had given me a lot of help and peace of mind when I was first starting out. No doubt would have been forced to find a place to stay that was far more dangerous and would have likely ended up with me not being nearly as prepared as I am now... so despite her saying she didn't want anything from me because we fixed up her trailer... I still wanted to do something nice for her.
However, I still had responsibilities, and that included protecting the territory that I had liberated from the Merchants from the other gangs; no doubt they would begin to move in immediately.
I created two Patrol Echelons that would function as PR teams, six Handguns and six SMGs, all created within the confines of the Skyforge. I was down to nine cows after my latest production run, and I knew that I would end up needing to find another farm to collect more cows from. However, now that I had quite a bit of cash I could go through and set up an actual office within the city; I just needed a good location, and where better than a pre-made evil person's layer?
The trip into the PRT office wasn't just to sign up, it was also reconnaissance; I had drones scanning every single floor of the PRT building, but their primary target was the office of one Thomas Calvert.
After having explained his power and the various interpretations I felt like we had a pretty solid plan on how to handle him, but, I wasn't going to eliminate him right out the gate. He is a piece of shit, but even pieces of shit can still be useful. I would flex on him first, and then I would offer him a choice- an offer that he couldn't refuse, because if he did the alternative was six feet under.
I scrubbed a hand through my hair as I looked at the sleeping forms of Python, Contender, G17, Five-Seven, Spitfire, Grizzly, AK-74U, UMP9, UMP40, Vector, Gr G36C, and RO635. Handguns and SMG T-Dolls were all aesthetic as hell and also easily identifiable as above the age of 18; I wanted there to be no uncertainties as to the legal status of the Patrol Echelon's members. These girls would operate in pairs and patrol all of the territories we had and would acquire; they would take photos, answer questions, poke kiddies' noses, eat ice cream, drink sodas, and interact with the public in a way that was both reassuring and comforting.
They would all be much stronger if I was correct about the manufacturing boosts the Skyforge, and because of that, I felt comfortable making for them chopped-down models of the MJOLNIR. I essentially made them like Samus' Zero Suits except with additional armor and protection; I made full use of Vibranium, and the armor was far lighter and far less imposing. Armor panels were a laminate of Vibranium, Beskar, and Phrik, and they covered the vitals- throat and neck, chest and back, a segmented plate that looked like abdominals, armor panels that wrapped around the biceps and triceps, the entirety of the thighs, knee and elbow plates, shins, and feet. Yes, the chest panels did have some curvature to accentuate the breasts, and the suits definitely didn't hide their bottoms... but that was by design.
The armor wasn't their primary protection though, they still had the full capabilities of the shields, so it wasn't like they would be going down to some chump shit because their armor was for aesthetics and less full-blown combat. I had my Assault Teams for that sort of stuff- the Patrol team's main focus was on good PR, so staying visible and active to deter movements was vitally important- there was no way I could let the PRT run with the narrative that Frontline was 'creating a vacuum for new gangs to exploit.
As a consequence of this PR focus, they wouldn't be given full-face helmets, but they would have the best environmental protections I could give them; soft shell hoods that were self-sealing- all they had to do was pull them up and attach the face mask and the hood would seal around it.
To maintain the veneer of the unwritten rules, they would ware special domino masks that had clear lenses that would act as their HUD, and they were very thin and partially articulated, allowing the public to see their eyes and eyebrows move, etc, etc.
After learning that CX4 Storm and M4A1 liked baking, I set them up on cake-making duty; I gave M16A1 the keys to the truck and let her take a few girls into town to pick up some extra ingredients and more ice cream- if you thought I would be able to tell twenty-plus women that there would be sweets and they wouldn't be able to have any you would be out of your damn mind. We picked up $2.7 Million dollars from all of the perfectly legal heists we pulled against the Merchants, and there was no reason we couldn't spend some cash to reward them for their hard work; they most certainly earned it.
Artie was monitoring PHO, and already the news was spreading like wildfire that the Merchants were done for; she made sure to post that it was Frontline who had handled them and that we were currently editing all of the footage to create some cool little videos for everyone to see. The fox loli's timing was impeccable, because not one hour after the post on our page the PRT had issued a vague statement that the Merchants had all been captured, and while they didn't explicitly state that they were the ones to do it... it was certainly implied. "With the aid of the new Parahuman Team, Frontline, the PRT and Protectorate were able to strike a decisive blow to the operations of the Parahuman gang known as the Archer's Bridge Merchants."
Blah, blah, blah. I didn't know if that was Piggot's doing or not, but I suspected that someone in her PR department was trying to minimize and downplay our effectiveness; though, I didn't peg Emily as the type to flub this so hard- she would know that we'd be posting videos and the like. We always had the receipts for everything we did. My money was either on Costa-Brown applying pressure on the PR department or Thomas Calvert trying to undermine her. No doubt she got the press release and began reaming their hides, especially if it was put out without her authorization.
Regardless, I spent a bunch of time going over everyone's armor.
Again.
Now, Vibranium was amazing stuff, but it actually was a touch weaker than Beskar- the real draw was the cancellation of physical forces that allowed it to perform above its weight class; Enbee did some testing and found that once the material gained two millimeters in thickness ability to absorb or nullify did not become any stronger. So, with that in mind, I shaved off two millimeters of the Beskar and added two millimeters of Vibranium in its place. We gained a substantially better impact resistance while reducing the overall weight of the armor by 6%, which was a huge win in my opinion.
What I did not know was that Vibranium was also one of the best stealth materials out there; it absorbed and nullified all vibrations, including things like radar. How the metal was nice and shiny and not black as night was beyond me- if that was the case then it would also absorb all light, something like that Muso Black. However, it was a comic-book universe material, and shit just didn't make sense there, so I stopped thinking about it as Enbee and I once again began redesigning the stealth aircraft.
The currently active girls had a run at the Kyber crystals again, and we picked up new wielders for Orange, Yellow, Blue, and Green. After their sabers were made M16A1 and the other girls had a lot of fun running the new girls through the paces; the left half of the hangar looked like something out of the Old Republic, with almost two dozen lightsabers all striking at each other in a beautiful, deadly dance.
With the Merchants finished, I put the other Indias I had borrowed back to their original assignments and created a new section; this section would be scouring Canada in locations around Toronto since that was where Saint and his team were most likely to be holed up. He favored isolated locations with enough storage space for the Dragon Suits and whatever equipment they needed to maintain them; this could be in the city or out in the woods, but the biggest factor was that he had to be close enough to civilization to support himself. A man had to eat.
So I created a mobile charging station for the stealth surveillance drones that I used around the city; the station would be dropped off by a stream or river outside of the city, camouflaged conventionally and with other stealth materials- including photo-reactive panels and an Active Camouflage module- and could charge twelve drones at a time. The Duskstalker would fly in with two charging stations and twenty-four drones, dropping signal relay beacons along the travel route.
One charging station and twelve drones would scour Toronto looking for Saint and the Dragonslayers while another charging station and twelve drones would locate one Nikos Vasil, a cape known as Heartbreaker, and begin conducting in-depth surveillance. I wanted to know everything about them- records both paper and electronic, patterns of life, associates, etc, etc, etc.
If Nikos stepped into Montreal to pick a new fuck toy then I wanted to know about it.
If one of the Dragonslayers went to go pick up toilet paper then I wanted to know about it.
Speaking of great threats, I tapped the Indias in charge of searching for the Slaughterhouse Nine.
They hadn't been found yet, but considering the sheer landmass I had only a dozen high altitude drones combing, it was to be expected. They had last been spotted in a place called Ringwood, a small town with a population of 437, in northern Pennsylvania, but that was almost a week ago. After looking at the public S-Class thread I'd determined that the Nine still had Hatchetface on the roster, so they hadn't picked up Cherish... it was a bit of a gamble, considering I didn't know where Cherish was at this part of the timeline, I'm going to make a guess and say that she 'joined up' somewhere close to Montreal?
I adjusted the flight paths of the drones to keep their searches within 500 miles on the US side of the border and omitted major cities from the list; I also had Nugget trawl the S-Class board so that if they struck somewhere else we could shift fire and track them down that way. They were looking for recreational vehicles with a beat-up van following consistently within a few kilometers of it... it couldn't be that hard to find, right?
I felt the Forge spin up and try to reach for a new star from the "Facilities Mundane" cluster, but it wasn't even strong enough to budge it.
[Attempted Re-Forge: 7.0320 - Nanite Fabrication Table - 400CP - Stargate Atlantis - Facilities Mundane]
[NOT Purchased: Insufficient Balance - 100 CP]
A small sigh escaped my lips as I popped my neck and strolled down to the dock from the Work Site. During my turn sifting for nanomaterials, I used the time to look over the background stories that each of the girls had created using Nugget to facilitate their new lives here on Earth Bet.
They kept them pretty mundane, though forging military records was a lot harder, so we decided to skip those; it was easy to add a de-aged photograph to a high school website's online yearbook but much harder to generate paperwork for the military. The military had paperwork for paperwork, and the paper trails were often monitored; that and some unit commander would, more often than not, remember their outstanding 'go-getters'.
All it would take would be for someone to send an email to Major So-and-So asking about their Staff Sergeant Rachel Kwon, who received "all of these good NCOERs", and the whole house of cards would come tumbling down. Still didn't stop us from creating timelines and locations, references to who went to what training schools when and where, and coming up with funny stories to tell involving their fellow Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, Airmen, Coast Guard, etc, etc, etc. Just keep them generic enough to pass the smell test but not specific enough to give them any information to glean.
After finishing up my shift I moved back into the warehouse and into the Magical Research center to continue fucking around with my Sorcery abilities; Glados did indeed have more exercises and tests for me to do, but thankfully my abilities had improved somewhat.
I had graduated from last place in ability to second-to-last-place, and that was a badge I wore with pride because it meant that I was improving.
Once my testing was exhausted I moved into the Enchantment room and began restocking the Runes I used on creating the PR Echelons and creating the protection rings that they would wear once they woke up.
I was pinged by Nugget.
It was six o'clock in the evening- birthday time.
I left the warehouse open down at the Work Site so we could continue nanomaterial operations, though I toyed with the idea of digging an underground nanomaterial reservoir that we could just attach a vacuum hose to and drag into the warehouse. I was leery of leaving important materials out in the open, but after doing some thinking on it I could easily set up a sensor network that rivaled the one I had up at the house; if anyone went near it I would know about it and could respond.
Though I didn't have anti-Thinker or Precognitive protections, so what was to stop Doormaker from opening up a door within the holding tank and just snatching some up anyway?
Wait, how do I know that some wasn't already snatched up from the bin that we used to hold the nanomaterials already down by the water?
Gah, being paranoid as fuck was difficult.
I decided to put that plan on hold until I had the proper protections for it- I did all of my work in the workshop already because it was safe to do so. Taking my operations outside without them would be very risky, at least for the time being.
With a glimpse at myself in the bathroom mirror I had determined that I was all nice and clean; a loose, red-white-and-blue plaid button-up shirt, some comfortable blue jeans, and a ratty pair of brown work boots. A pre-stressed brown leather belt tied it all together.
M16A1's hand came up and caressed my face, her fingers questing under my chin. She smiled and brought the razor that I'd just sat down and pushed my head back so she could nick off one of the few hairs that I missed; with light-colored hair I always missed something. It was strange to be without my beard, but it would grow back soon enough. "There now, all cleaned up and ready for the party."
I grinned and bent over to firmly kiss her lips before stepping around her and exiting my room. The kitchen was packed to the gills with all of the T-Dolls under my command, and M4A1 presented me with a chocolate cake that had two wax candles on it- the lettering was the edible kind, and it read "Happy 85th Birthday, Tiffany!". Underneath the cake pan was an insulated box that held three perfectly cooked steaks, some sweet corn, three baked potatoes with all of the fix'ins on the side, and some salt'n pepper green beans; the tubs of ice cream were already down at the old woman's trailer.
"Here you are Commander," M4 spoke softly with a smile on her face, "Please, let me know what Miss Tiffany thinks of the cake, okay?"
I reached down and smooched her lips before turning to CX4 Storm and giving her a smooch as well. "Thank you girls, I will. Be sure to enjoy the cake and ice cream yourselves, alright?"
"We will, Sir!" All of the girls shouted out in unison, and a chuckle escaped my lips as I walked out of the front door and down the gravel road towards Tiffany's trailer. The reason we all weren't enjoying this together was that Tiffany's granddaughter hadn't yet called to cancel, so we decided to err on the side of caution; I ran through the backstory I had just in case. The youngest son of Tiffany's sister, Elanore, came up to visit and ended up staying after leaving Alaska, etc, etc. Seemed pretty air-tight; if someone were to call my 'boss' up in Alaska the number they'd dial would be re-directed to one of my T-Dolls who would use a voice modulator to answer any questions they had.
Not entirely foolproof, but far more than enough to stand up to most scrutiny.
I tapped on the front door, and it swung open to reveal Miss Tiffany who was wearing a nice brown dress with a simple leather belt loose around her waist; thankfully she was aware enough of her age to not wear a plunging neckline. "Good evening, Ma'am, and Happy Birthday!"
She snorted and rolled her eyes before beckoning inside, "Come on, boy, let's sit down. My Granddaughter hasn't called to cancel yet, so she very well may come; we'll get everything ready, but if she doesn't come in the next fifteen minutes then we'll start without her."
She stepped aside to allow me entry, and I moved through the living room to get to the kitchen; the cake was sat on the counter, the tray with the food was placed on the counter, and I pulled the ice cream out of the freezer and put it in the refrigerator. Once it was time for it the ice cream should be at the perfect softness.
She handed me a cigarette and we moved out on her back porch to smoke, enjoying the mild weather and the sounds of the woods as the last rays of the sun were setting. We chatted about what was happening in the city, and what we were accomplishing with the team; I kept the details light for security purposes, but she was pleased to hear that we had balled up the Merchants and that the ABB and E88 were next on the list.
Tiffany put out her cigarette and huffed, "Well then, lets get this show on the road, I ain't getting any younger."
The comment drew a snort out of me, and the old biddy smiled crookedly.
She pulled out some plates and I arranged the meals on them, and after that, she moved into the living room before turning on the television; heh, I hadn't seen Turner Classic Movies in a long, long time. We were greeted with the sight of John Wayne sitting on a pile of sandbags while wearing a green, Vietnam-era uniform. Tiffany let out a pleased huff as she sat the channel changer onto the wooden TV Dinner tray before sitting down in her armchair. "Ah, good old John, now he was a man you could count on to make a good film."
A chuckle escaped my lips as I sat down her plate and used my foot to slide my own TV dinner tray in front of the couch, "Well, the man was not only talented but wise as well. 'Life is hard. Life is harder-'"
"'-when you're stupid.'"
"'-when you're stupid.'"
Her eyes crinkled and she picked up her fork and knife before digging into her meal. "I just don't understand movies anymore, boy. All Hollywood wants to do is rehash the same old shit all the time. It's always 'Capes' this and 'Capes' that; it's almost as if the world has completely forgotten the thousands of years people have been roaming this earth before powers came along- oh, this steak? Probably the best I've had in a long time; my ex-husband was a heathen- never ate a steak that wasn't well done. An offense I should have divorced him for."
"Well, Hollywood does its best to follow the trends, and 'Capes' are the current trend, and likely will be for a long time coming; who knows though, maybe they'll make a film about what life was like before superpowers came along?" I replied before enjoying my own cut; succulent and tender. Mmmm.
Tiffany huffed as she gestured at the television with her fork, "Oh, they already are doing it, but they're just bastardizing history by injecting powers into it now! Last year they made a movie about Joan of Arc, implying that she had some sort of Thinker power that allowed an uneducated peasant girl to successfully rally and lead the French army in the defense of France! Four years ago some bastards had the temerity to make a film about Jesus Christ, claiming that he was actually a Cape before there were Capes!"
She angrily took another bite of her meal, this time adding a chunk of potatoes. "A disrespectful bunch those louts are, no class!"
Before I could reply I was pinged by one of the Indias- a four-door sedan that wasn't one of the ones registered in our area was driving down the road at a fairly quick clip, popping up above the speed limit a few times. The car turned off the main road and started up the gravel drive, and I could hear the stones crunching under the tires as the beams from the headlights splashed across the blinds. "Oh, so she did make it!"
The old woman's ornery disposition disappeared like fog before the sun and she slid her tray out of the way to stand up. She moved around the coffee table and opened up the front door, her arms opening up wide, "Hello, Hannah! My dear, it has been far too long since you last came by and visited me."
I arched an eyebrow and looked up from my plate to see a beautiful woman wearing a business-like suit; a charcoal grey blazer with a pristine white button-up shirt, and a matching charcoal pencil skirt and stockings with comfortable looking black pumps that had one-inch heels. Her skin was olive in complexion, with dark brown hair that was artfully tossed and pulled back into a loose bun. She had expressive bottle-green eyes that crinkled in a very familiar fashion as she smiled down at Tiffany.
"I'm sorry I couldn't make it sooner, Grandma, but with the bust of the Merchants this morning there was a lot of paperwork I needed to do before I could leave," She bent over a planted her lips on Tiffany's cheek. "My whole office got tapped to help with the in-processing paperwork for the criminals that were apprehended."
Tiffany sighed, "Dear, one of these days you're going to have to tell your boss 'No'. If you're in the Finance section- no, don't look at me like that- a fully qualified member of the PRT or not, you don't get paid to handle those ruffians. Now, come, your cousin, Jason, has prepared a nice meal for us. No more talk about work. Come, come."
Ignored the Forge spinning up to latch onto a smaller star from the "Toolkits Mundane" constellation.
[Attempted Re-Forge: 5.0250 - Utility Mods - 200CP - Dead Space - Toolkit Mundane]
[Re-Forge Successful]
[Purchased: 0 CP Remaining]
I entered into the Strategy Trance for a moment to look over the Perk; the Kinesis and Statis modules would be nice little additions to our toolkits- being able to yank things with great force and fire them off like the Half-Life 2 Gravity Gun was neat. Being able to significantly slow time down in a localized area would never not be useful... especially after I got the chance to improve them. Enbee and the Engineers were already pouring over the schematics and constructing one to see if they couldn't do it better with better materials.
I dropped the trance and focused my eyes on my 'cousin Hannah'.
Her eyes shifted over to me, and I gave her a small smile and waved at her with the fork in hand, a piece of steak speared onto it. "Hello, cousin, and auntie, don't rush her; she hasn't even had time to take her heels off yet."
Those beautiful green eyes were far too expressive; I could see the apprehension in them as Tiffany led her to the kitchen and handed her a plate before dragging another TV dinner stand over to the couch. While she did that I tapped Nugget to look into Miss Tiffany Miller and search her background. I hadn't done it before out of privacy, but considering the woman who was her granddaughter was Miss Militia...
Tiffany Miller nee Walsh, married to Douglas Andrews (D.o.B 1921/D.o.D 1957) in 1946, had two sons - Arthur and William Andrews (D.o.B 1947/1949, D.o.D 1966/1966); widowed in 1957, car accident. Re-married in 1968 to George Miller after the deaths of her two sons in Vietnam; gained a new daughter from Mr. Miller's first marriage in the process, Sarah Miller (D.o.B 1960/D.o.D 2001), and gave birth to another daughter, Georgina Miller (D.o.B 1970/D.o.D 1999).
According to Georgina Miller's medical records, she was noted as barren in 1992, and in 1993 she adopted Hannah Lively. Hannah Lively... married one Joseph Washington in 2003, but divorced just three years later in 2006; she kept his name even after the divorce. Nugget couldn't find any mentions of a Joseph Washington except for a few spurious photographs; the man had a minimal footprint online. No doubt he was probably a PRT agent that was tapped for her cover story. The exact dates of things didn't quite line up, but it did put her squarely in her early 30's, which matched the information we had on Miss Militia.
She was part of the inaugural Wards team back in the 1990s, and with how they liked to do things I'm certain only Hannah's mother was aware of her true role as a Ward, and by the time her adopted mother died she was already in the Protectorate as Miss Militia; there would have been no reason for her to inform her aged grandmother that she was a cape.
My paper trail was actually quite a bit thicker than hers, with a complete online history going back years and years, and after getting some photographs of Tiffany's niece, Jessica, we were able to "photoshop" everything from baby pictures to picnics. Jessica lived out in the countryside by herself, away from the family after she ran away from home- teen pregnancy by some dirtbag- and hadn't really communicated with anyone from the family ever since. She died six years ago from cancer; her treatments were covered by the hospital's charity foundation, but Nugget fudged the numbers to include direct payments from my bank accounts over the years.
Though, to be fair, I don't know if any of that would even matter considering I was still seven feet tall and built like a brick shithouse; the loose clothing could only conceal my definition.
Fuck. If I'd only invaded the privacy of the only person who helped me out then I would have figured this out and avoided the whole birthday party to begin with!
Hah, yeah right.
I valued Miss Tiffany's companionship far too much to have done that; the old woman would have told me more about herself in her own time.
Still, I probably should have anticipated this.
Hannah sat down next to me on the couch, and I did my best to divide my time between watching John Wayne's portrayal of 'Colonel John Kirby' and inspecting my new cousin. She did the same, and while she was less defensive, she was no less wary. We chatted about minor, small things, at least until the meal was finished off; she probed me about my arrival to Brockton, and I told her about the flight from Alaska, all the stops, bitched about LAX being too damn large for connecting flights; I had to run non-stop from my Anchorage flight to get to my connecting flight to O'Haire International.
Then I talked about my good long walk from Fugly Bob's, mentioned the shoot-out that occurred when I was there, talked about the kid I sat behind the sea wall with. Nothing but the truth on all fronts; if she bothered to dig that deeply she'd find the flight records, surveillance footage of me getting onto and exiting the flight terminals, etc, etc, etc. For the most part, I felt that my backstory was bulletproof, right down to the two speeding tickets I got when I was 16 and 17 years old in Willingham County.
I lit the candles on the cake and we sang a good happy birthday song, complete with the "and many more, on Channel 4" addition I always used to sing. Hannah didn't know it, but I sang it slowly enough for her to catch where I was going with it. Tiffany blew out the candles and we dug into some cake and ice cream. "I see you remembered to get my Mint Chocolate Chip, Jason."
I blinked. That was actually the first time she's used my name since we met. It was usually just "boy" or "mister". It was nice. I couldn't stop the grin from spreading on my face, "Well, you were harping on about it- even went into a history lesson about Baskin Robins. How could I forget? Besides, you don't get to act all surprised- I bought it like three days ago, and it's been sitting in your freezer the whole time!"
I shook my head and reached into my back pocket, pulling out a small rectangular cardboard box. Tiffany's lips firmed into a thin line. "I told you I didn't need a present, boy, you done enough helping me fix some things around the trailer."
Ah, there was the 'boy'. My cheeks warmed a bit but I stood my ground, "None of that, auntie. You've done a lot for me since I stepped off that plane. I didn't know where I was going or what I even wanted to do... and you welcomed me with open arms, let me fix up the trailer that uncle George had. Gave me a place to rest up, put my feet on the ground."
"I remember sticking a shotgun barrel in your face, Jason," Tiffany smirked and Hannah arched an eyebrow.
"Well, it was late at night when I arrived, auntie. Shit, I'da stuck a shotgun barrel in my face too. I didn't think I'd fat finger your number like a maroon-"
"It was 976-22-"
"-42."
"-42, yes, not 2224. I'm sorry, alright?" I chuckled and leaned back on the couch as I finished off the last of the peanut butter and chocolate ice cream in my bowl.
"Well, if you'd have written it down properly I would have come and picked you up at the airport instead of you walking all that way," Tiffany pointed at me with her spoon, "This moron walked all the way from the Market out here."
"I stopped by the City Hall and got a bus pass, auntie, so it wasn't like I walked all the way," I stood up slowly, pushing the TV dinner tray away with my thighs before moving into the kitchen and washing my bowl out. After that I set it off to the side on the drying rack before I moved back into the living room to hand her the box, "It ain't nothing but gold plated, but I had one of those jewelers on the Boardwalk make this one up custom."
I rubbed the back of my neck as I sat back down, and I watched as Tiffany removed the red twine holding the box shut before taking the top off and pulling the gold chain bracelet out. She smiled softly and ran her thumbs over the plate that had the protection glyph carefully etched onto it; the catch was pretty large, to take into account her aged fingers. My head bobbed, "So, what do you think?"
Tiffany turned her eyes to me and her voice was thick, "This is... very lovely, Jason. Thank you."
I blinked, not expecting my eyes to sting as badly as they did. My finger came up and I rubbed at the corner of my eye, "Well, I'm glad you like it."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hannah shift uncomfortably in the seat next to me before she reached into her purse at her feet and pulled out a small box and handed it over to Tiffany. The old woman huffed, her words were ornery but there was no heat in them, "You two are two peas in a pod, I swear. I tell you I'm too damn old for bits and baubles and yet here you both go and get me things I'm going to have to update my Will for."
It was a beautiful silver locket, and though I couldn't see what small photo the locket contained, it brought a teary smile to her face. She stood up and stepped in front of Hannah before wrapping her up in a big hug, "Oh, thank you, dolly. It's beautiful."
The hug that Hannah returned was tender, and her smile was heartfelt.
I honestly felt like I was intruding, even if I was playing the part of her cousin.
"Well then, it's getting pretty late for me, auntie, I have to be up early in the morning," I stood up and waited my turn for a hug from the old biddy, "I've decided I'm going to start restoring Uncle George's old Cadillac; get it fixed up, repainted, and then sold to some Yuppie living on Captain Hill if you don't want it for yourself."
"Heading out already?"
"Well, I want to get everything laid out in the barn, and I figured that you'd want to have some alone time with Hannah here since she hasn't stopped by in a while," I looked over at the beautiful woman and nodded my head.
"Of course, of course, well don't be a stranger, Jason," She gave me a hug, and I waved at the two of them before moving to the front door, stuffing my feet into my boots, and walking out.
"I live just up the road, it'll be impossible to miss me."
Just like it was impossible to miss the unreadable expression in Hannah Washington's bottle-green eyes.
I'd been in the barn, making it look like I was actually getting ready to do some things; I had a feeling that Hannah Washington would be coming by to talk to me afterward, so it would behoove me to continue to play the part.
With Miss Militia still in Tiffany's house, I was able to get the girls to help me lift the Cadillac into the barn's workshop space. After that, I opened up the door and had the T-Dolls move everything out of the house and the Engineers came in to make everything less nice; we restored it to its original condition, except much cleaner within just a few minutes. When the girls and 'Goks were finished I shut the warehouse up- I would have to drive down to the Work Site to reopen it down there, but in the meanwhile, LTLX7000 got to enjoy the water and the moon rising up since she'd already filled her nanomaterials bin.
The Forge grew hot, and a star from the "Facilities Mundane" was missed by a single charge.
[Attempted Re-Forge: 7.0140 - Workshop - 200CP - Samurai Jack - Facilities Mundane]
[NOT Purchased: Insufficient Balance: 100 CP]
I used the wooden door in the corner of the shop to bring in a few Engineers and we fabricated a bunch of spare parts and laid them out on the numerous wood benches and tables. A copy of the 1959 Cadillac Eldorado technical manual was downloaded and made, and I had it open on the front table. Mundane toolsets with rusted red toolboxes along with hoses for the air compressors for the various power tools were lined up nice and neat.
After ten minutes of sitting around and listening in on Hannah's low-key interrogation of her grandmother, I decided I might as well do some actual work. I tore out the old components and put them into a junk pile just outside the barn doors, along with a whole bunch of electrical components that were well past their prime. The perks were nice at helping me deconstruct everything, but it wasn't as though I had anything specifically for this purpose. I knew they existed, but I hadn't yet been graced by the Forge for a car-related addition to my personal Constellation.
Just as I had suspected, at around 9:00 PM Hannah bid her grandmother goodnight before she started walking up the drive.
I kept track of her through the sensors as I quickly ran through the questions Hannah asked along with Tiffany's answers; nothing that deviated from what we previously discussed or was too invasive. I was under the ass end of the Cadillac, unscrewing the rusted muffler and catalytic converter when Hannah approached the open doors of the bar, her steps were far from quiet and she had her arms crossed underneath her breasts.
I shimmied out from underneath the vehicle just far enough for her to see me see her approaching. "Oh, Hannah, hello there."
"Hello, Jason," She spoke, her words calm and practiced, "I was hoping I could talk to you for a few moments if you had the time."
I huffed a laugh, "Of course I have the time, but if you would just give me a moment; I've been working on this damn muffler for the past thirty minutes now- shit's frozen stuck and I just now got the bolts on this collar loosened up."
I picked up a can of WD-40 and spritzed the said bolts one more time before I picked up the socket wrench and started to crank them off. The eight bolts came loose and I had to catch the muffler and converter assembly with my forearms and knees; "Sonnova bitch."
"You okay?" Hannah spoke up, and I could see her heels pace around the workshop, no doubt letting her perfect memory drink every detail in. Well, ha! Jokes on you! I have everything I need to completely rebuild this hunk of junk and turn it into something some wealthy resident of the Bay would pay good money for!
"Yeah, I'm good," I pushed the assembly onto the concrete and moved it down before I could give it a good kick to push it the rest of the way. With collars and bolts in hand, I shimmied out of the way before grabbing onto the edge of the trunk and pulling myself up, "The converter and muffler conspired to end my life, but I showed them whose boss."
I grinned and tossed the assembly onto the pile before walking around the car to the sink and lathering up my hands and forearms with some good old GO-JO; I was glad to see that the staple of cleanliness crossed dimensional boundaries, the citrusy scent invading my nostrils as the grit removed the dirt from my skin and nails. I wrinkled my nose and sneezed into my shoulder. I dried my hands on a towel hanging up and threw it over my shoulder before I turned and leaned my ass against the sink; it groaned a little bit, but it was Huragok engineering at its finest- it would hold. "So, what's up?"
Her lips quirked as she finished eyeing the orbital sander and the collection of sanding pads on the table and turned to face me. "Nothing is up, I just wanted to talk to my cousin; I haven't heard of you before, and grandma never mentioned you before."
I winced a little bit, getting myself into the mindset. "Well, mother didn't exactly leave the family in the best of circumstances. Got pregnant out of wedlock to her high school sweetheart with my older brother Joel, and eloped to Charleston after her husband Richard enlisted. He then got sent on an unaccompanied tour to Korea and... came back home with another woman- an Army nurse from Harrison Hospital while he was at Camp Peongam."
"Rather than admit defeat and go home she moved to Tennessee with the settlement money from the Divorce and bought a property out in the boonies; she lost custody of my brother though," I sighed and scrubbed at my hair, "Ended up sleeping with some dirtbag she didn't name, had me, and I grew up in the ass-end of nowhere until I graduated from Parker High and started traveling around, doing different jobs. Technical schools," I pointed up to a picture frame with a sheet of pressed paper with seal on it; it read "Witchita Automotive Institute" along with a number of certificates in different fields for what I was qualified for.
Hannah chuckled as she eyed it and turned back to me, "Those certifications expired five years ago."
I forced some blood into my cheeks in embarrassment, "Well, recertification is a cinch; I just need to go down to the BB office and pay a fee. I haven't worked on cars for a while but it ain't like its rocket science."
I lifted my hand and pointed toward the technical manual on the table, "If you have the right tech manual, then you can do it; if you can read and follow instructions, you can fix a car. My skills may have rusted a bit, but turning wrenches is like riding a bicycle."
Hannah nodded, "Very true, I suppose. I don't know much about cars though- I let the Jiffy Lube handle my needs."
I gave her an amused smirk as I looked around at the bookshelf above the wall, my eyes sliding across the hundred technical manuals that the old retiree had accrued, "Are you sure you're Uncle George's granddaughter? I can't imagine he let you go through life without learning how to turn a wrench."
"Oh, he showed me sometimes when I was here, but while he was alive I wasn't interested in working on old, broken machinery," She looked away guiltily, "I was focused on my... pursuit to join law enforcement."
I shook my head and pushed off the sink before walking around the car to start picking at various mechanical bits and reorganizing them, "And how's that working for you?"
"Pardon?" She was a bit surprised at the question.
"I said, 'How is that working for you?'" I looked back at her over my shoulder, "Auntie said you were driven, capable. Like you wanted to really make a difference... yet the PRT's got you stuck in the Finance office filing paperwork."
With a shrug of my shoulders, I start pulling open and shutting the drawers on the toolbox before finding the socket I needed to start taking the brake drum off the axels. I made a show of flipping through the pages and finding the page for brake drum removal, and spritzed some de-locking juice on the rusted over bolts. "You, uh, look pretty fit, like you still keep yourself in top condition, as if waiting for the day when you can step into the shoes of a Trooper. If you're half the woman that auntie talked you up to be then the PRT would be wasting your potential."
She blinked and shook her head, "I was a Trooper, but after my divorce I felt it would be best if I worked in a less stressful position; my ex-husband I were both Troopers, but we worked separate shifts, long hours... not enough time to see one another. To communicate. To work things out. We both loved our jobs but neither of us was willing to take off the body armor and put on a suit, and that drove a wedge between us."
"Life's funny like that, you know? I didn't take off the uniform until after it cost me my marriage," Hannah let out a sigh, her bottom lip worried between her teeth. She dragged her beautiful green eyes up to meet mine, "But we live, we make mistakes, and we learn. I learned that sometimes compromise doesn't necessarily mean giving up and retreating, but that was a lesson learned a little too late."
That was delivered so well that I would have honestly believed it if I didn't know that it was complete horseshit. Still, I wasn't mad or anything; we were both playing at the deception game here. "Well, can't say that I know what you're going through- I haven't thought about romance until just a short while ago, not since my high school sweetheart told me to come over to her house and I almost got shot by her dad sneaking into her bedroom."
She snorted and I smiled sardonically, "After that it was 'work, work, work'. It was just me for a little while, and I was able to save up a good amount of money, but then mom got Hodgkins and little by little that started draining what funds I did have."
Hannah's eyes softened, "After that I started taking more lucrative jobs out of state, got my Certificate for free out in Witchita by cleaning the shop up each night for the owner. Worked at a few dealerships around town before I got a job up north and started working in the oil fields fixing up their trucks and generators."
"I didn't know you were a generator mechanic too," She smiled in amusement.
"I'm not, but once again, if you can read you can fix just about anything," I chuckled as I broke the bolts free and worked on shimmying the brake drum off the rear axle, "The company saved some cash by having me fix their shit under the table, and in exchange, I picked up an extra shift as a night guard on the sites."
"Two jobs?" The cape asked as she walked around the vehicle to watch me work, "That must have been a lot of work."
I shook my head as the Forge grew hot and reached out for a smaller star in the "Crafting Magical Items" constellation and pulled it into my orbit.
[Attempted Re-Forge: 30.0030 - Amulet Crafting - 200CP - World of Darkness - Mummy the Resurrection - Crafting Magical Items]
[Re-Forge Successful]
[Purchased: 0 CP Remaining]
"Meh," I shrugged my shoulders after setting the brake drum onto the concrete flooring. I pointed toward the table where a brown spray bottle, a copper wire brush, a box of gloves, and some shop towels sat, "Would you pass me those? Yeah, those, thanks."
I pulled the gloves on and sprayed the axel connection down before scrubbing at it with the brush, "It wasn't too bad. I was pretty quick on the fix for most problems, and when stuff wasn't broken and I wasn't doing scheduled maintenance then I had a good amount of downtime; I napped in the breakroom chair when I had the chance. The extra cash went to mom's treatments, and she made it out alright, so with us thinking she was free-and-in-the-clear I continued to pursue the security gig."
I grabbed the thick paper towels and began scraping the rust and shit that had built up on it over the decades it sat behind the trailer, "Ended up working my way to the top over the next few years. Hopped from Oklahoma to Texas, and from Texas to New Mexico. Then mom's cancer came roaring back..."
My hand stopped twisting, "She hid that from me. Told me she was going to her quarterly screenings but she wasn't. Then it was a knock-out, drag-out fight that cost her her life. I came home long enough to attend the funeral and put her belongings in storage. Took a job in Alaska, did that for the past few years, built up some cash and now I'm here."
I went back to cleaning and scrubbing. The silence reigned for a few minutes before she spoke up again. "About your brother, Joel. Do you know what happened to him?"
"Nope, mom didn't tell me anything about it; the best I could say was that he was an ugly baby," I chuckled and shook my head, "Yeah, the most I learned about him was from the baby pictures mom kept of him; they're in the family album in the storage unit."
"He was in Corpus Christi when Leviathan hit it in 04, he was among the missing when the tidal waves hit."
I sighed and sat back on my ass. The latex gloves crinkled as I worked my hands into a fist. God damnit woman, can you leave me alone already? A loud breath escaped my nose and I stripped the gloves off before standing up, I walked past her and towards the front of the barn where I shut the lights off, "Come on, Hannah."
She strode out behind me, "Where are we going?"
The barn doors creaked as I shut them and locked it up with the padlock and chain before pocketing the key, "If we're going to talk about heavy shit then we can do it over some drinks. I can't really work on a car while we're talking about the brother I never met."
I moved up the back porch and unlocked the back door before ushering her inside, I moved into the kitchen and opened up one of the cupboards to pull out a half-drank bottle of Jack Daniels- sorry, M16A1, I'll buy you a new bottle, I promise. Two glasses were grabbed along with a handful of ice cubes. I poured a single shot into each glass before handing her one. "Sorry if it's not what you're used to; I don't really drink that much, but I always keep something like this on hand for guests. Not that I've been having many."
Her eyes trailed around the trailer and she sat down on the couch before kicking it back and reclining. I took the folding card table chair and sat a few feet away from her.
Her eyes crinkled a little bit as she sipped, "I might not drink it all since I did drive."
"Well, if one shot is all it takes to put you over the limit I think you've got bigger things to worry about."
Hannah Washington, Miss Militia, didn't leave the house for another hour, and when she left I dispatched a surveillance drone along with her. Nugget had used her cellular signal to download a small copy of himself to run in the background of her PRT phone, and that copy would copy itself to all electronic devices hers came into contact with. I think that she had been suspicious when she first met, but considering I had all the time in the world to look over my backstory and think over how I would respond to her questions in the best way I think she left feeling a lot better about the situation.
No doubt she would ask for someone to look over my backstory because a long-forgotten member of the family suddenly showing up at her lone living relative's house would be enough to trip some red flags, but everything should come back clean. Until I confirmed that though, under surveillance she would stay.
I hopped into the truck and drove down to the Work Site and opened the warehouse up again, giving LTLX7000 a nice kiss as an apology for making her wait for so long. The girls were all in the Skyforge, waiting for me to wake up Type 95.
"Type 05, Activate- Command authorization: Xray-87-Hotel-Oscar-Lima-35-2-8-Romeo."
"Type 95... is active and... awaiting your orders... Commander." Emerald eyes fluttered open behind long eyelashes before they shut with a wince.
"Easy there, 95. The wake-up process is a bit much, but please bear with it," I spoke soothingly, "It should take an hour or so, but you'll be feeling a lot better soon. Take this time to listen to M16A1 and chat with your sisters, okay?"
"Yes, sir." Her picturesque Chinese features were almost at odds with her busty frame and western colored eyes, but despite the small bit of dissonance there the Assault Rifle was a genuine beauty that few could compare to.
With that I moved into the Enchanting wing and sat down at the newest crafting station, a large table spanned the opposite wall of the Elder Scrolls Rune station, and on it was a very large and thick leather-bound book with dozens upon dozens of papyrus scrolls all stacked neatly around it. The book itself I knew was the culmination of knowledge, but it held some mistranslations that the scrolls provided the correct answers to.
With the literature on the table I could craft incredibly powerful magical amulets- they could generate a multitude of effects, from merely having dust and dirt flow around your person to walking on the very clouds themselves. Walking on water was a commonly crafted one, but there were many, many others. Protecting one's soul from harmful effects, and even protecting your mind from outside intrusion. Another one hid your presence from all different types of scrying magics, though different types required different enchantments; divination protection needed a different enchantment from more direct scrying methods.
I had within me the ability to craft all of these wonders, and that was magnified by the fact I had a facility that could analyze all sorts of different magics and magical methods; I highly doubted that this would simply be my limit.
The only caveat to this was it was an expensive process, requiring all sorts of precious jewels and metals, but with the stockpiles I'd already accrued this wouldn't be needed.
I flipped open the book after setting the scrolls off to the side and called Enbee into the room; we had work to do.
The bad part about amulet crafting was that it required a fair amount of mana to empower the enchantments. The great part about enchanting these amulets though, was that it required a fair amount of mana to empower the enchantments.
That sounds a bit redundant, but let me explain: I do not have to have magically imbued materials to start with. In some fiction crafting required gems and metals that had been naturally imbued mana from the environment before they were mined; this was rarely circumvented with the use of manufactured materials in most cases- you either had a gem that had been sitting in the earth for millions of years or you didn't.
In this case, the amulets didn't need materials like that, nor did they require some metaphysical significance like 'being handcrafted by the enchanter' in order to work either. They just needed to be empowered by mana- whether that be ambient or mana from a magic caster. Obviously they were directly empowered by an enchanter or a mage, because it would take centuries otherwise, but that lack of distinction worked clearly in my favor.
I learned all of this by scanning the papyrus scrolls and the book into the computer- a huge drawback of the skill was that I didn't automatically learn how to decipher the Egyptian hieroglyphs. What I did have, however, was a fiat-backed super magical research laboratory that could do all of the translations for me, allowing me to download all of the crafting information into my noggin to speed up the learning process.
There were plenty of ready-made designs for all sorts of useful enchantments, and between myself and Enbee we were able to craft a boatload of amulets with molecular precision- my first and best pootie boy was a touch miffed that we hadn't figured out how to upgrade their tendrils to be atomic-accurate yet, but he was mollified by the promise that I would try and create a scientific research robot to aid us; having a super-intelligent robot that was 100% loyal running billions of calculations every second could probably help.
Before us sat ten amulets- they hadn't been empowered yet, but I was assured that they were expertly crafted and would work. They were made from different combinations of materials, from rubies and sapphires to silver, gold, steel, mithril, wood, and vibranium. That confused me quite a bit since the Forge had it listed as a "magical metal", but despite that, it was also considered a mundane metal because the nanomaterials could copy it unlike the magical mithril ore supplied by one of my first perks. With the supply of the mithril being very limited- only a handful of ores per month- I chose to use them sparingly.
I picked them up and moved them into what looked to be a fume hood, placed the tray onto it, and then shut it. With the press of a few buttons a hazy, shiny blue gas began to enter the chamber, and after a few moments, the amulets began to glow softly. Like water circling the drain, a vortex appeared over each amulet, and the mana was quickly absorbed. The more mana they absorbed the faster they began to absorb it, and the concentration of the mana in the tank lessened until the facility adjusted the mana input to counteract the increased draw; it kept the whole process nice and stable.
Within ten minutes all amulets were fully charged, and the excess mana was siphoned away from the chamber before the hatch popped with a slight hiss. I picked up one of the amulets, this one was solid gold with a small ruby in the very top of the medallion near the loop for the golden chain; beneath the ruby was a depiction of a sandaled foot with the wings of a bird on either side of the ankle that had been carefully scrawled into the surface by Enbee.
It was an amulet of Fleet Foot, granting whoever wore it a tripling of their running speed, and the stamina to run for three days and three nights. The amulet would have required a successful enchanter three months of constant mana flow to complete this, but here the facility did it in ten minutes.
The other amulets were inconsequential- I confirmed that my construction methods would work, and that laid the foundation for my next attempts.
There were limitations to the enchantments that could be placed on the amulets, but they were pretty easy to work around.
All enchantments revolved around two distinctions: Positive and Negative. Either the enchantment was enhancing something or it was preventing or removing something. The Fleet Foot amulet enhanced one's running ability, while the Amulet of Good Health absorbed disease into itself, ridding the sickness from the person who wore it. If you were going to enchant an amulet then you needed to have only positive or only negative effects- you could not mix and match.
[Attempted Re-Forge: 33.0100 - Engineer - 300CP - Super Mario RPG - Quality Design]
[NOT Purchased: Insufficient Balance: 100 CP]
I pushed the perk out of my mind; it was an expensive ass perk for merely giving you the ability to not need to put schematics and blueprints to paper to remember them perfectly- the small 'boost' to the creations of said schematics and blueprints didn't seem that impressive either.
Getting back on track...
There also, to my knowledge and the knowledge accrued within the tome and scrolls, no upper limit to how many enchantments could be applied to an amulet; there was no predetermined shape that an enchantment needed to be placed on- those were merely examples from the scrolls.
It did have to be worn though, specifically around the neck to be effective, but, there were no limits to how many amulets could be worn as long as the enchantments did not actively work against each other. You couldn't wear an amulet that allowed you to inflict illnesses on people you touch while wearing an amulet that cured those you touched of sicknesses.
Stupid obvious, I know, but it needed to be said.
That and some complications arose when you wore too many- if there were too many enchantments drawing mana in to power them then there was a risk that they would start eating into your mana supply as well; though that was a problem for the enchanters themselves to worry about, as they required every drop of magical energy to jumpstart their newest enchantments. Not so much for me.
I grabbed Enbee's tentacle and dragged him over to the enchanting table again, and we made a six-sided dice out of gold and added on one of the corners we put a small ring with which we could thread a thin chain of vibranium through it. We etched the spells that would protect us from pre-cognitive methods, a spell that would make our history illegible, a spell that would prevent all manners of mental intrusion be they magical or mundane, a spell that prevented direct scrying from spells or spying through the use of familiars, a spell that would protect against negative magical effects, and a spell that would reduce the harm suffered from physical blows.
These inscriptions were then inlaid with a mithril layer that was thinner than gold leaf and bonded; we had to be sparing with the mithril here because I sort of wasted a fair bit of it making the amulet that made whoever wore it a master swordsman.
That had been a bit silly on my part, but I wanted to see if it would make any difference, and until I made the same amulet out of gold and asked one of my T-Dolls to test it I wouldn't know.
The tricky part about multiple enchantments was not only did you have to ensure that you were fueling them at the same time, which took lots of mana, but you had to make sure that you were fueling them at a constant rate. With the last run of amulets I charged it was easy because they were single face enchantments, though this time it would necessitate a different approach.
Like... hanging it up on a small hook stand so that all faces would be able to draw mana without obstruction. Easy peasy.
With the completed amulets moved out of the mana chamber, I shut it and began the start-up process; within seconds the chamber filled with mana, and soon after six separate vortices formed. To my surprise, the chamber had to ramp up mana inflow quite a bit sooner, but upon reviewing the notes it was mentioned that the more enchantments were added to a single piece the more mana it required; most enchanters in ancient Egypt didn't go past a four-faced triangle amulet.
The process ended the exact same as the other ones- ten minutes.
I pulled the chain out and examined the finished product- it was a quarter the size of a standard six-sided dice at just 3 millimeters; hell the hoop for the vibranium chain was almost bigger than it!
I didn't waste any time slipping it over my neck, and I knew that I couldn't be viewed within one hundred paces of my current position- prying eyes would slip right over me. Anything I touched now had its metaphysical history stripped from it, and I would receive a quarter less punishment from physical blows. The second biggest takeaway, aside from the anti-precognitive effects, was the knowledge that my mind was secured and I couldn't be influenced by anything without my permission. Harmful magical effects were also reduced by a fair amount, but it really depended on the type of spell cast against me; elemental magics and the like would be affected differently than the more esoteric magics like time and death magics.
I quickly created a simple coin amulet that allowed for quicker healing and improved stamina regeneration, and I would follow that up later with an amulet that had other effects; the water walking one seemed pretty important.
After that? Enbee and I put our collective noses (and snoots) to the grindstone. We had a small army to outfit.
[February 10th, 2011]
[8:30 AM]
I went to bed four hours later at four in the morning after we created every amulet and passed them out. It wasn't the Perk pick-up I wanted, that being Blank II, but it was a damn good stop-gap until Blank II was kind enough to grace me with its divine presence.
While I slept it was decided that the trailer didn't need to be remodeled again, with the new protection dice we could now build outside of the workshop as long as there was at least one T-Doll that remained on the premises to provide the 100 meters of blanket protection; so we started excavating with the previous drones I created on the hill about two hundred meters to the west of us in-land. It had the best elevation and underneath the soil was solid bedrock, giving us an excellent base to work off of.
When I woke up it was with M16A1 on my left arm while Type 95 was on my right. I felt my cock beginning to thicken from the sinful pair of breasts pressed against my rib cage. I shifted a little bit to get more comfortable, and green eyes opened up to greet me. "Good morning, Commander."
She murmured softly, her soft Chinese accent caressing my ears. I bit my lip before I pulled her lips up to my own; they were just as sinful as her breasts, and the plush backside that filled my hand told my brain that there was no way these T-Dolls were only designed for combat. I was given a little leeway to tweak their proportions and measurements, but that was the extent of my capabilities- small little boosts or reductions here and there. She giggled softly, and when we parted she spoke, "M16A1 told me I was chosen by you to be one of your many future assistants, Commander. She told me you admired my body just as much as you admired my capabilities; that makes me very happy, Sir."
She bit her lip and grabbed my hardening length in her hand, stroking it gently to bring it up to full mast. M16A1 sighed softly, nuzzling against my chest as her storm gray eyes locked on to the tent I was pitching with the sheet covering us. I squeezed the AR's shoulder, and she looked up at me- I captured her lips in a deep kiss before I broke it a few moments later. "95, get between my legs and put those breasts of yours to work; make me cum with them."
She grinned broadly and pulled the sheet back, and I spread my thighs so that she could slide between them. She was on her knees, with her hands posted on either side of my hips- her heavy, pendulous breasts hanging down and puddling across my hard length. "Yes, sir. Whatever you desire, this Type 95 will do your bidding gladly."
She shifted from side to side, the soft flesh teasing my length; occasionally she was pop herself up a little bit higher so that she could drag one of her large, pebbled nipples along my cock- a small moan escaping her lips each time she did so. "Commander, your weapon feels so good against my bosom~."
I nodded to her and turned my attention back to M16A1, kissing her fiercely as my left hand tucked under her body peeled back an ass cheek to tease and toy with her anus as 95 was toying with me; my left arm cupped her left breast and squeezed and kneaded, my fingers capturing her stiff caramel nipple and pinching it.
Soon, 95 pushed down on my sack with her hand, dragging my length and pointing it towards the ceiling so that she could slip it between her breasts, and once it was secured in the valley of soft yet firm flesh she released my testicles so she could squeeze her boobs together. The Chinese rifle giggled wantonly as she worked herself up and down my shaft; she was hot, and the pressure was just enough to provide some friction, but maddeningly little else. A good tit-fuck was just as much about teasing as it was about satisfaction- there was a slow but steady build-up to it; I had once been with a girlfriend who had been gifted enough up top to perform this for me, and she often drove me wild with lust. "It's so hot between my breasts, Commander."
I felt my cock drool pre-cum, and with each stroke that enveloped the head the passage of her next stroke became wetter and easier. She hadn't spoken in a minute, and I found out why when the woman let a mouthful of saliva spill down her lower lip and perfectly filling the cavity of her breasts; when she lowered herself it coated my length. I let out a groan as it set my nerves on fire, and I scooped up the juices leaking from M16A1's pussy and slipped a finger into her ass- hooking and curling it in such a fashion that drove the woman next to me wild.
95 picked up and pace, slowly but steadily, my length emerging to press against her lips and then dissappearing back into her pliable flesh. I broke the kiss with M16A1 and looked into the Chinese AR's green eyes. "I'm going to cum soon, 95."
"Yes~, yes~, please, come quickly for me, Commander, I will receive it all." She grinned, her eyes crinkling as they sparkled with a palpable joy. Her hold on my manhood increased dramatically, as did the speed of her movements. I inhaled sharply as my vision blurred, white sparking behind my eyes as I began to climax. My cock pulsed violently, each contraction spewing a thick rope of my seed up onto her face and hair; 95 didn't care to try and catch every single drop, she merely closed her eyes and opened her mouth, readily accepting the semen no matter where it landed.
"Stroke it, 95," I ground out, and the woman's hand grasped the base before quickly jerking it to help me ride out the last of my orgasm. Relief filled me and I slumped against the mattress. "Good. 16, clean that cum off of her face. When that's finished, 95, sit right here. After that... 16, fuck your ass with my cock; lube it with your pussy if you feel the need to."
M16A1 trembled as my commands washed over her, and she grinned wickedly. "Of course, Commander."
In less than a minute the Vietnam-era assault rifle cleaned off 95's face and chest with broad, languid strokes, drawing out cute little cries from the newcomer; they both played it up for my viewing pleasure, I could tell. After that I pushed my thighs together so that M16A1 could place her hands on them, and she straddled me in a reverse-cowgirl. She gripped the base of my manhood and leaned forward so she could position it right at her pussy and she slid down it with a loud, happy moan; the woman worked herself up and down my length a few times before she popped off and repositioned the head against her anus. "I'm about to fuck my ass with your cock, Sir."
"Well, what are you waiting for, 16?" I swatted her bottom, drawing a yelp from her lips before I grabbed her feet and positioned them on top of my belly; don't ask me what it was about seeing the bottom of a woman's feet while she rode me like this, but it got me going. She didn't waste any further time, the woman spearing herself on me; a hiss escaped my lips as she forewent any further preparation- I had thoroughly teased her pucker beforehand, but there was still no way to properly describe the feeling of tight muscle and silken flesh parting before my cock.
I removed the pillows from behind my head and patted my chin, and 95 oriented herself in the same direction as M16A1, her ankles and calves sliding up underneath my arms as she lowered her grape scented womanhood towards my lips; she had some hair, but it was an artful patch above her clitoris- her inner and outer lips were tight, and her mons puffy from arousal. I didn't hesitate from digging my tongue into her passage, and she let out a beautiful moan. "Ahn~, Commander!"
A shudder worked its way across my body as M16A1 slipped her feet off of my belly so that she could place her feet on the mattress, and that was when she really started fucking; a VISOR cut-away appeared in the corner of my vision- Artie up to her tricks again- but I was treated to the sight as well as the feeling and sound of my cock gouging out M16A1's insides. I pulled back 95's plush ass cheeks and mauled the flesh, feeling the muscle beneath, and she cried out as my tongue brought her orgasm after orgasm.
When I filled M16A1 up with my own climax, my voluminous seed filling up her colon with powerful, sticky spurts, I gently pushed her off to the side and pushed Type 95 on top of her prone body; the two rifles melded together, arms wrapping around each other and lips parted in deep, passionate kisses. I propped 95 onto her knees and scooped her juices up with my fingers before slathering it against her asshole; I pressed in, roughly lubricating up her bottom before I pressed inside of her. Her anus parted with a bit of a struggle, but she moaned in delight throughout the entire process.
My hands grabbed the swell of her hips, and I bottomed out within her, drawing a muffled squeal from her lips. The VISOR x-ray view changed again, showing my full length plugging up her lower digestive tract; the muscle rippling and squeezing around me. I pulled back to the head and thrust forward, my eyes relishing in the sight of her ass cheeks rippling with force as I saw my cock pierce her depths. "Cawmander~ Scho fworcful~!"
I felt the caveman roar up within me, and I began to pound her posterior with reckless abandon, the sound of flesh striking meaty flesh filling the bedroom. My mind was abuzz with the chatroom Artie set up bursting with chatter from the T-Dolls, the women egging me on, asking me to pounder her hard, to kiss her, to slap her, to take her harder.
I didn't indulge them though, I did what I wanted to do; I varied up my strokes, changing the depth but keeping the intensity all the same. Soon I was pushing her prone against M16A1, my hands on her lower back as I pounded her bottom with every last drop of strength I had until I sealed my hips against the reddened, bountiful flesh of her ass and began filling her with my cum. A groan tore out of my lips as my orgasm began to taper off, and I lowered my upper body down onto her so that I could whisper into her ear. "Things like this might happen every day as my secretary, 95. Is that something you want?"
"Oh yes~, Commander. This Type 95 will fulfill all of your desires, no matter where, no matter when, no matter with whom. I am your lotus, ready to be plucked whenever you desire. Fill me with belly with your seed whenever you wish," She moaned heatedly, the woman grinding her ass against my hips to wring out the last few drops, "It would please me greatly if you would make me your broodmare, Commander. I will bear for you many sons; I have a womb and a desire to see it filled- it would be a shame to let it shrivel up before it has had a chance to bear fruit."
A shudder traveled up my spine, and my cock throbbed mightily at the thought of seeing Type 95's voluptuous body walking around in a sheer, pristine white sundress, all barefoot and pregnant. If anything the same thing could be said about all of my T-Dolls.
It laid out some very serious questions about what the fuck was I going to do when all of this was over? Retired to the Bahamas with my T-Doll waifus and dozens to possibly hundreds of children?
Nugget nudged me, knocking me out of my thoughts as I enjoyed the sensation of laying on top of my two T-Dolls; Miss Militia had requested a Level 2 background check on my person, handing it over to the investigators. With the Nugget of Nugget of Nugget on the investigator's computers ensuring he saw exactly what he needed to see would be very easy; there was a checklist, and we already checked every box. It should be concluded that I was legitimate, and everything was fine.
I rolled off of the two women, making sure to remove my flagging cock gently. I crouched down next to them and kissed them both passionately on the lips. "Come on, ladies, let's get cleaned up."
They both responded in unison. "Yes, Sir~."
The peaceful morning of cooking was interrupted by the rapping on my door before Tiffany inserted her key into the lock of the back door and opened it up, "Hello? Boy? You up yet?"
She stepped inside and her head swiveled around the room, "Well, I see you put it back to how it was; any particular reason?"
"Well, we had a bit of a technological breakthrough last night, and of course Hannah's decision to come up necessitated a quick remodeling; we should be setting up our base on the hill over yonder." I pointed out to the hill through the kitchen window.
"Huh, another one? Or was she not here when you introduced the team the first time?" Tiffany gestured to Type 95 with her cigarette before lighting it up and stuffing it between her lips, "And speaking of my granddaughter..."
The old woman's lip curled into an angry snarl as she grabbed the scruff of my shirt and got real close to my face, the smoke from her cigarette curling up my nostrils as we looked eye to eye. "I have done a lot of things for you, young man, and I knew that one day something like this might happen. One day I would be forced to lie about you to her, and God Damnit if that didn't tear me up inside! It was a wonderful birthday! The best I've had since Gregory died, and all of those happy memories- of seeing Hannah and having you around-! T-to not being alone they-! They are tainted by the fact that I had to lie about you to her!"
She released my shirt and swung her arm out, catching one of the glass cups on the counter between her fist and the stone; it shattered, cutting deep into her knuckles. "Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!"
I stood up and was walking over to the front door; the girls knew I was closing up the warehouse and opening it here. However, I knew that it wasn't the glass and cuts that were causing her hurt. Enbee and Subee were waiting by the door, so when I opened it they pooted into the room and gently took her hand and began removing the glass and sealing the wounds. She let out a wet sigh and patted the two on the head. "Thank you, the both of you."
Subee trilled and tugged the old woman over, "I'm fine, I'm fine. Please, stop fussing over me, damnit. I'm old, not infirm."
Still, Tiffany allowed herself to be pulled over to the couch and let the Lifegiver give her a complete look over. She let out a shuddering breath. "You've done right by me, Jason. Just as I've done right by you, you returned it in kind. People helping each other as God intended. However, lying to her was the single easiest and single hardest thing I've done in a long, long time; the words flowed from my lips like the Satan whispering in the ear of Eve in the garden. It was exciting, even, keeping this little secret of ours. It was terrifying, how easy it was to answer her questions and only just what she was looking for."
She fished out a new cigarette as her old one lay discarded on the floor of the kitchen, the paper soaked by a droplet of her blood. She lit it up and inhaled, holding it for a few moments before exhaling. "It wasn't until after she left to go up and talk to you that I realized how I was wronging her. My granddaughter might not be my flesh and blood, but it's the heart that counts; I know that her knowing about you would be problematic, but this old aches at the memories."
"No, Subee, her heart doesn't ache physically, it is an expression," I spoke out, patting her head before signing, 'And no, no memory removals. It wouldn't help'.
Best gurl proved why she was best gurl and she nodded her snakey head before a tentacle came up and adjusted her thick-rimmed doctor's glasses; another tentacle came up with the stethoscope and pressed it against her chest, drawing a chuckle out of the old woman. "I'll be damned if these two won't ever not bring a smile to my face; look at Enbee, looking like a construction worker."
Said boi raised a tentacle and tilted his tiny yellow hard hat before pooting back into the warehouse, his work complete; the blood was gone and the glass Tiffany broke had magically repaired itself. Subee followed soon after.
M16A1 and Type 95 watched solemnly from the table with their hands folded in their laps. Tiffany sighed and shook her head before she reached out and grabbed my hand, "I'm sorry, boy. I shouldn't have snapped like that."
I took a knee beside her, "No, Ma'am. You have every right to be angry- I've... been thoughtless of you. When I asked you to sit down with me and come up with a cover story I... honestly didn't think we'd ever have to employ it."
My knee folded and I moved to my bottom, leaning up against the side of the couch with my left arm crossed over my shoulder to keep hold of her hand. "I talked with Hannah for a good while, and it felt... awful, getting to know her using names and faces that I don't really know. It felt like I was robbing graves, stealing bits and pieces of information to put together some sort of Frankenstein's Monster."
I bit my bottom lip and chewed on it, "The whole time I kept thinking to myself 'It's Alive, It's Alive!' as I spoke to her, and... I think she believed me. It felt scummy. Like it flies in the face of everything I'm trying to do."
Tiffany's other hand stroked the hair on my head, "It's all coming back to me, memories of days long past. I think when I look at you I see my sons, though they've long since passed away; you certainly don't look alike, but I can see it in your drive, your determination. Just like Hannah."
I held my fingers up and Tiffany slipped her half-smoked cigarette between my fingers. I puffed on it. "It seems like all I can do nowadays is pray that one day the two of you won't up and leave me behind; you with your Cape'ing and Hannah with her work at the PRT. I've outlived everyone in my family; it should be me dying next- I want to be greedy and make you both show up to lower my body into the dirt, not the other way around."
Her fingers tugged on my scalp as a morbid chuckle escaped her lips, "I just might be liable to throw myself into the hole after you."
"You've got a few more years left in you, Tiffany. At least fifteen," I took one more puff before passing the cigarette back to her, "You can't die before you sit in that coveted VIP seat on Bingo Night."
She flicked my ear with her finger, "Wise ass."
We sat there in silence.
"I won't lie anymore, you hear? I won't rat you out, but I won't make up any new material either. Everything that she'll hear is just what we do between now and the next time she visits, though, It's not like I know you that well... beyond what you've already told me," She blew smoke out of her lips, her voice growing smarmy and sardonic, "That and I think she found you kind of cute, but let me tell you now this isn't Georgia; incest is wrong, even if you aren't blood-related."
A laugh belted out from my gut as I stood up and brushed my pants off.
"Oh, I don't know, Miss Tiffany, I think that Jason could make her a very happy woman," Type 95 smiled brightly, "In China, marrying cousins was not unheard of, at long as there were at least two generations apart."
"Speaking of which," Tiffany stared 95 down, "Are you a Commie, China-girl?"
Emerald eyes blinked but her smile did not falter, "I was stolen by the Communist party, whether my mother was British, Australian, Austrian, or American, I do not know. The secrets of my birth were kept, even from me. My... form factor is hardly what you would call Chinese, even though my features suggest it as such."
"I was used by the Communists, paraded about in front of the people, my beauty used to incite the fighting men and raise their spirits," Her fingers scrunched up the front of her dress, "However, I was never utilized for anything other than posturing. I was nothing more than a pretty face for them to brandish when it suited them."
"Eventually I found my way over here, where I found people who desired me not just for my beauty but because they genuinely believed that I could be more than just a showpiece," I arched an eyebrow.
Was she referencing the Type 97, a 5.56mm chambering that was imported to the US?
"Here I have true comrades, people who think and believe similarly to me. People who want to put their lives on the line, to risk it all for a better tomorrow."
"I was utilized by the Communist party, but I am not a Communist." She finished primly, though there was no derision in her words.
"Great, now I feel like an asshole," Tiffany muttered as she brought a hand up to her face and rubbed her cheek, "Apologies, -"
"Qi, but the other girls call me Type 95, or 95," She smiled as she stood up and walked over and took a seat next to Tiffany, the Assault Rifle taking the old woman's hands before bringing them up to her lips, "This one is pleased to finally meet your acquaintance, Elder."
Tiffany's lips quirked, "Well, now I feel like an even bigger asshole. Jason, where are you finding these women?"
"I'm not finding them at all, Emmie is," I thumbed M16A1, and her eyes widened in mock shock, "But regardless of all of that, you'll be seeing her a lot more often around here, much like Emmie, Qi is important to the team."
"Really now?" The old biddy arched her eyebrow, "What do you do, besides fill out a dress?"
A small giggle escaped Type 95's lips, "Well, while M16A1 is his Vice-Commander, I serve as his attache, his Secretary. I will be assisting him here in the organization as well in his civilian business."
That got both of Tiffany's eyebrows to rise as she looked at me with a grin, "Oh, finally got that figured out, have we? What are you doing to bring in some non-Merchant money? I can't keep putting cocaine-laced bills in my purse when you pay rent, you know."
I waved her off with a huff before crossing my arms over my chest, "I'm going to go around the Bay and collect wrecked cars and have them restored, and then sell them in or out of state. With the resources at my disposal now a little non-gang-related funding wouldn't go amiss."
[Attempted Re-Forge: 24.0170 - Moon Tech - 400CP - Okami - Skills Magitech]
[NOT Purchased: Insufficient Balance: 200 CP]
I ignored the Forge swinging and missing.
"Well, if you're using the barn to restore some cars then I think old George would have been pleased to have you inherit the place, Jason," She mused, her finger fiddling with the bracelet, then she looked down at it before raising it up in front of her face, "Also, what the hell is this thing? I kept it on me when I went to bed last night, and when I rammed my knee against the corner of the doorframe this morning it didn't nearly hurt as much as it should have."
"That, my dear Tiffany, is an enchanted bracelet from a faraway world that reduces the physical impact one feels when wearing it. Quite literally, it's a magic bracelet." I smirked at her, and she gazed at me incredulously.
"You're shitting me."
"I don't know Tiffany, you tell me: Am I shitting you?" My smug couldn't possibly reach any higher levels at this point in time.
"You mother fucking tinkers and your tinker bullshit. Fine, I'll keep it on. If it saves me from breaking my pinkie toe again I'll wear it for the rest of my days," She groused.
I shook my head as I walked into the bedroom, grabbed two amulets, and came back out with them, "Well, that's not the only thing I'll ask you to wear until the rest of your days. Here."
"The hell are these?" She peered at the necklaces I handed her, "A golden dice cube and a golden coin? More tinker bullshit I presume?"
I grinned, "Yes it is indeed. One of those does the same thing as the bracelet does, but in a different way, and the other one heals you at an accelerated rate while improving your ability to recover your stamina."
"Now you're fucking with me." She narrowed her eyes.
"A test then?"
"A test it is."
I readied my finger and I flicked her wrist and she hissed, "Ouch, you pissant!"
"Now put on the necklaces please," She grumbled a great many curses but she slipped the necklaces over her head. I applied the same flick, to a different spot on her arm, and she barely flinched.
"Now I know you're fucking with me, you didn't flick me nearly as hard that time," I arched an eyebrow and pointed down at the slowly forming bruise on her wrist, and she held it up to her eyes to observe very carefully. Even from where I was sitting I could see the bruise start to reverse course; within half an hour the bruise would be gone. "Son of a bitch, you really aren't shitting me. Damnit!"
Her lips quirked into a sideways smile as she looked at me, her mouth was telling me one thing, but her eyes were wishing she was saying something else. "I'm sorry, Jason. I didn't mean to doubt you and your tinker bullshit. This old lady deeply apologizes for ever calling you into question. Is that satisfactory?"
I couldn't help but laugh as I threw my head back, "Gall dangit, you are a curmudgeonly miser with those apologies, Tiffany."
"Well, when you give me a 'Life Alert' button I can't help but feel like the old woman on that commercial- 'Help, I've fallen and can't get up!'" She chuckled and stood up from the couch, "Well, I've come by and said my peace, and I think we've kissed and made up. I've got to go and get back to the house, a re-run of episode 44 of the Golden Girls is coming on and I can't wait to sit down and empathize with Estelle."
She gave me and the girls a hug before moving towards the back door with a bit more pep in her step, "Thank you for being a friend~, travel down the road and back again~, your heart is true, you're a pal and a confidant~."
The door shut and I felt the knot in my heart loosening up. That had been quite tense, but... I'm glad that we could work through that. Type 95 wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down for a gentle kiss. "I think she understands, Commander."
I wrapped my arms around her waist and tugged her close, "Yeah, I think so too. So, speaking of getting the small business up and running, are you ready to go out into Brockton Bay for the first time, Qi?"
She grinned at me and danced back to pick up her purse before pulling out her ID cards and paperwork and fanning it out for me to see, "I am all ready, Commander."
I shook my head, "Well, amulets?"
She pumped her bosom, "Nestled and active."
"ID cards are ready so... the only other thing is... underwear?"
"Only if you don't want me to," She smiled mischievously.
"Underwear, tasteful. I can't have you leaking all over the seat of your dress, Qi." I walked over and stuffed my wallet and keys into my pockets, "Come on, you two. Let's go down to the worksite. We've got to wake the new girls up and M16A1, you need to get them through wake-up and orientation."
The All-American rifle smiled and gave me a crisp salute before she walked into the bedroom and grabbed a set of ankle socks and some Converse sneakers one of the Echoes had fabricated for her. With a flourish, her shoelaces were tied and she was standing before me with a smile that was just so precious it made me dip down to plant a smooch on her lips. "Come on, ladies, we're burning daylight."
"Ah, Commander, before you leave, shouldn't you get dressed first?"
I looked down at my blue jeans and t-shit. Well, this was a business meeting so...
The door to the warehouse was opened up, and Enbee pooted into the room with a tendril full of nanomaterials; like a magical girl transformation my clothes were stripped away and a smart-looking three-piece business suit formed around me. The whole process lasted as long as it took for me to hop from one foot to the next, and Enbee's tentacles reached up and straightened out my +3 POWER TIE of REDNESS before booping my nose and pooting back into the warehouse.
We stopped by the Work Site and opened it back up; UMP45 had spent the time enjoying the morning sun with her jacket off, but she was pretty eager to see her two little sisters wake up.
With the Command Activation Codes spoken, the Handgun and Submachine Gun T-Dolls began to wake up one by one, and the girls all swarmed around them to take care of them, with water bottles in hand and commiserations on their tongues as the new girls struggled with the sensory overload.
They would be up and moving within the hour, and would be training with their MJOLNIR Mk X-PRs soon enough.
As for myself and Qi, we hopped back into the truck and drove into Brockton Bay, driving through the Nazi-controlled streets of South-West and North-West Shanty Town before moving into the PRT-controlled districts and towards City Hall. We had a meeting set up with the Brockton branch of the Small Business Administration, and I didn't want to be late for my appointment; my buddy had once told me the SBA was a pain in the ass in the best of times, and that was on my old Earth.
I didn't want to know how bad they would be here.
Granted, Nugget and Qi had all of our paperwork filled out, and it wasn't like we needed a loan or anything, so this should be as simple as filing the paperwork and getting the tax filings taken care of. Nugget had already gotten me 'new' Mechanics certifications taken care of, and he printed them out for me after inserting everything into the United Auto Worker's Union's branch computers.
I was legal in every sense of the word. Illegally.
We parked the truck in the parking lot in front of City Hall, and I slipped a few coins into the parking meter; I didn't expect this to take too long, but I slipped a few extra coins in there for the next person. Paying it forward and all that.
Qi looked stunning in her white dress with blue floral accents, the sleeveless look truly suited her, showing off the beautiful skin on her arms, and the woven blue cord belt she wore emphasized her sizeable bust and bottom. The barret she wore in her hair was the same blue as her dress and it held her gorgeous silken hair back. It made me want to bend her over the hood of the truck. "Are you ready to go, Mr. Wilke?"
"Of course, Qi Bai Zhang Min, come along," I flourished with a smile, offering her my arm as she adjusted the strap of the fancy leather bag across her shoulder.
The two of us received no small shortage of stares from both sexes as we trotted up the staircase into the main building before searching the directory for the SBA office. With it found, we swooped through the hallways with a bit of pep in our step, and upon entering we saw that the whole office- all four people- stopped what they were doing to stare.
"Uh... sir? Ma'am?" A reedy voice spoke up, the young man tugged at the collar of his suit, "This is the Small Business Administration Office... if you're looking for the Mayor's office it's... on the third floor."
Qi smiled and the man blushed fiercely, "We are exactly where we need to be, Mr... Andrews."
"Well then, I guess I can take your case since we aren't that busy right now," He cleared his throat, he slumped in his chair, "Not that many people looking to start up here."
"Well then, let us be the first to do so today, shall we?" Qi smiled as we sat down in the chairs, and she pulled out all of the paperwork before handing it over.
It didn't take long at all; Qi was very efficient and with everything taken care of the only thing that remained was for the man to ask his final question. "Answer me this, Mr. Wilke, why the hell start up a business here? You seem put together, with your uh, Assistant, and everything. You could start up in a much safer city."
"Well, Mr. Andrew, do you know how many beat-up abandoned cars there are here in the Bay?" I asked, and Nugget, being the smaller version of the Goodest Boi, fed me the numbers that the Indias had collected from the drone feeds, "Over two thousand, five hundred abandoned cars. A lot of them are older models, models that today would be considered 'Classic ' cars."
He nodded, "I'm following."
"Well, Brockton Bay has local laws on the books that allow anyone with the proper permits to take those vehicles as salvage if they've been abandoned for two years or more. That is a lot of free cars, Mr. Andrew." I folded my hands in my lap, "The city gets to have its unwanted junk removed, not on the city's dime, I get cars I can fix up and sell, and maybe some young man or woman will get a great deal on a good car that will carry them forward on the next step of their lives."
"Or, some rich guy in the next state over gets to have the Cadillac of his dreams, paying me a lot of money to do so," I grinned, "If you really think about it, I'm just recycling... with extra steps."
He blinked, his lips firming into a thin line before he sighed explosively and nodded, "Alright, you've convinced me. So, how do you want to do the business loan?"
I shook my head, "No loan, I have the workshop and all the tools I'll ever need; my Granduncle left me a whole lot of his car stuff- he used to do what I'm doing now before he got too old to continue. I also have more than enough money saved up from my last job, so we just came here to file the paperwork so we could get the permits."
My tongue soured a little bit at the deception, but I needed to continue the charade, at least until the world wasn't in danger of being blown up by oversized space whales.
He bobbed his head from side to side before he began typing onto his computer, and a printer on the opposite side of the room started spitting out sheet after sheet of paper. The stack was stapled together, and he printed a second copy for his office's records. "Alright, well that should take care of everything, Mr. Wilke. The permit office for what you're doing is on the opposite side of the building on the second floor; Room 227."
Qi smiled beatifically, "Thank you for your help, Mr. Andrew. Come along dear, let us go and get the permitting taken care of; then we can go find that big wrecking truck you always wanted."
As we walked out of the SBA office we were able to clearly hear Mr. Andrew muttering to himself. "That lucky sonovabitch. She does his paperwork for him and lets him buy big toys?"
The permitting process was even more painless- the City of Brockton Bay was like "You want to take our broken shit? Have at it! Just sign here, here, and here. If we catch you dumping the shit you took from us elsewhere in the city we reserve the right to sue the skin off your back for deceptive business practices."
They sent us out the door with a pat on the back and a smile on their faces.
"So, you said you're looking for a wrecker?" A man that was paradoxically obese and yet gaunt-faced like an Auschwitz victim eyed both myself and Qi warily.
"Yup, that is correct. I'm looking for something like that, over there," I point over towards an older-looking truck in the back of the lot, "No frills, just a vehicle with a frame; I'm a mechanic and I run an automotive restoration business."
I reached into my pocket and handed him a glossy business card that had the image of my broke as fuck F100 on the left, and an image of the F100 after I had "restored" it on the right. On the top, in arched golden font with black borders, was the title of the business, 'Top Line Automotive Restoration', and on the bottom was my business' contact information. "I will be doing my own work on it and getting it up to snuff."
His lips curled down into a considering look, "You fix up your F100 out there? Like on the card?"
"I did indeed."
"I can see it; you did damn fine work, son. Not too many kids interested in turning wrenches and hammering out dents these days; everyone is all about Computer sciences and stuff," He stroked his chin, "Well, how about this. I got a '69 Corvette Stingray my old man left me a few years back; I ain't been able to get it up and running, and right now it's just collecting dust in my garage. You tell me what you think it would cost to get it up and running- a fair price mind you- and I'll knock double that off the cost of that rig there."
I grinned, "I always wanted to get my hands on a Stingray, I would have done it just for parts and time, but if you're insisting on paying me double who am I to argue?"
He chuffed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a beat-up smartphone and started flipping through some photos, "Look at you go, a true car salesman already. Here, take a look."
Bodily it was in good shape, but after asking him some questions I figured it was mainly electrical, though the engine did knock a lot once he got it started up; he was a salesman, not a mechanic. Well, he was a diesel mechanic. That and he'd honestly forgotten about getting it fixed up in the first place. "Six thousand, Arthur. I'll get it fixed up, running like a dream, and I'll even reupholster the seats and redo the paint."
"No shit?" He asked, the stem of his lollipop wiggling in the corner of his mouth. The paint job alone would be worth $4,000, so to diagnose, repair, and reupholster everything for just $2,000 more? That was a certified steal, especially since once gussied up he could probably put it on the market for $50,000 or more.
"Yeah, no shit. Though I will be taking photos of the process so I can post it on my website; might even ask for a customer comment; is that cool with you? Also, any color preferences?"
"Candy Apple Red, if you can manage it." He scratched his chin, "And yeah, I think that'll be fair. When will you stop by to pick it up?"
"Any time after tomorrow, really; it will take me a day or so to go over everything and then get my rack installed on it."
"Just a day? That's fast."
I grinned, "Well, let's just say I have a couple of genuine grease monkeys that love stuff like this; anything mechanical and they'll be frothing at the mouth to get their hands on a car like the Stingray."
"As long as you don't put no Tinker shit in it and it runs good, I don't care," He laughed, "Alright, tell you what. Come by on the 12th, and I'll have it dug out of the garage and ready for you to pick it up."
He handed me his business card with his address and contact information on the back. "That'll be $64,000 please."
I looked at Qi. "Dear, would you pay the man?"
She reached into her bag and pulled out $64,000 cash. He dropped the price down just a little bit more so we could walk out the door for the cash we had on hand, tax, tag, and title.
What a nice man.
Qi hopped into the driver's seat of the of the F100 while I climbed into the wrecker's driver seat. Nugget fed me all the information I needed to know how to drive, and the moment I turned the key the Forge dropped a present in my lap that made me grin.
[Attempted Re-Forge: 29.0150 - Mechanist - 300CP - Fallout 4 - Crafting Technological]
[Re-Forge Successful]
[Purchased: 0 CP Remaining]
More robot stuff to make better robots.
Special thanks to Lmc9389, Xodarap4, Artillery, DrkShdow, AuraofCalm, Zerak, Mioismoe, Zath, Splendid, D. Wongsonegoro, Darkarma, Acrimonius, T. Balewood, Randall Randall, Dominyx Black, CyberCrisis, Blue, Russ Stilter, Legion_13, Mike Fatal_Bullet, P. Nguyen, Fred65, K. Nielsen, J. Ricardo Passos, B. Rison, K. Weierbach, R. Alderman for being Patrons!
You guys rock!
I will be updating the Dramatis Personae page tomorrow. For now though? It's sleep time; spent all morning helping the parents move into a new RV, and all day writing. I'm pooped. lol
Also, special thanks to everyone who points out typos- myself and Grammarly still miss some stuff every now and again, so I will look at those corrections tomorrow and make them.
Cheers!
Utility Mods (Dead Space) (200CP)
Ah, technology, the best part of the future. The Kinesis Module projects an artificial gravity field from an emitter pad on the palm of the hand it's mounted on. Much like the name might imply, this field allows you to lift objects; smaller objects hover about a foot in front of your palm, whereas larger objects, most of which must be specifically modified to work with it and are typically on tracks or rails, move as close to you as they are able. You can manipulate these objects with your hand, and even throw them with a surprising amount of force, enough to penetrate a body with a bone spike and nail it to a steel wall. Stasis, on the other hand, as its name might imply, creates a temporal stasis field of a certain volume around the targeted object. It affects both organic and inorganic material, including living creatures, and has no problem with irregularly-shaped objects, flowing out around the targeted object.
* Allows for the movement of objects remotely as well as freeze them in place while working on them.
Amulet Crafting (World of Darkness - Mummy the Resurrection) (200CP)
Amulets, a more permanent form of magic, can also be enchanted by Mummies. Amulets can take many forms, from small pieces of jewelry to strips of paper. Making an amulet is a lengthy and expensive process, requiring much magical energy. Amulets can be crafted to ward against specific forms of damage, to improve one's attributes, or grant unique abilities such as cloud walking or invisibility.
Mechanist (Fallout 4) (300CP)
You know what makes robots tick or beep. Not only can you repair and create them from scratch, but you can also cobble them together, creating some sort of robotic Frankenstein's Monster that's loyal to you and you alone while also incorporating all of the best components of the robots it's made.