A Novel Approach (Worm Libriomancer system- Gamer lite OC)

by MalcolmTent6730

Simon Collins hates Brockton Bay. But that's alright. Brockton Bay hates him back. It hates pretty much everyone as far as he can tell. Now he's got superpowers, and without all those pesky horrible experiences to give them to him. Brockton Bay is a cape playground, and it's playtime for Simon. Sometimes, you can believe everything you read.

1. Chapter 1

AN:/Welcome friends, to my first Worm story. Some of you may know me from other stories, and some may be new, but in case you aren't familiar with me (or even if you are) I wanted to mention a few things before the story starts. First, there will be expys in this (characters from other universes) but the main canon will still be worm. This is NOT a Taylor story, I'm not a fan of her, and if she shows up it won't be for long, so if you're looking for that I'd give this one a pass. Other than that, this will be harem, it will be OC, and the MC will be morally grey, though he'll grow into it more than my last MC. There will also be plenty of sex (though not as much as Greed God most likely lmao). This updates on Tuesday and Thursday on QQ, and I'll post chapters on here every five chapters that show up on there, so probably every 2.5 to 3 weeks. Hope everyone enjoys.

January 2nd , 2011 Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, 11:00 AM EST

Brockton Bay is a shithole. This is news to no one. The people who live here, the people who pass through here, hell, people who read about us on wikipedia will all tell you the same thing. We have Nazis, druggies, and fucking Dragons, we have incompetent cops and a harbor that doesn't harb, and don't even get me fucking started on the supervillains. TLDR, everyone and everything here sucks.

Except me. I'm pretty great, honestly, though most people don't know it. I'm relatively good looking, I stay out of other people's way, and I'm a voracious reader. I have lots of good qualities, up to and including how incredibly humble I am.

Sadly, nobody seems to notice all that though. People mostly overlook me, which is why one of my favorite things to do is come to Bach's Ordered Books. The counter girl, Shiela, is a tall gorgeous blonde, and she actually notices that I'm pretty awesome, even if she's older than I am at about twenty five and tends to treat me like a little brother.

"So this is the entire new selection?" I asked her again, sifting through the box of donations for something, ANYTHING to read. Winslow was a fucking pit of suffering, and I couldn't stand the thought of going back there without something decent to hold my attention.

She huffed at me in annoyance. "Yes, Simon, for the tenth time, that's all of them. I SELL books, what would I possibly gain from hiding any from you? We WANT you to buy them."

"A likely story." I said suspiciously. I was sure she had a stash of choice novels in the back she was hiding from me. But a dignified almost graduate like myself was above trading slights with a lowly (though surprisingly top heavy) store clerk. "Fine. I'll take...these two." I grabbed a pair of hardbacks that looked interesting, both Aleph exports.

She snorted. "The first two you picked up Sy. You could have skipped all the waffling. I swear you're the most indecisive person I know." Smiling to let me know she didn't mean any offense, she snagged a dark leatherbound book from behind the counter. "Here, for my most loyal customer. This came in, there's a lock on it but it's probably some kind of journal or something. Maybe it'll have some amusing anecdotes. Not like we can really sell it."

She passed me the dark covered book, the only identifying feature a small picture of an open book in silver gilt, an open mouth inside the pages. I shrugged, placated by free stuff, and nodded my appreciation. I also overpaid by twenty bucks and left without waiting for change.

Sheila was good people. She always went out of her way to humor me when I looked for books, and she was never too busy to listen to me babble.

Money wasn't an issue. My mom worked at the trauma center, and was one of the best surgeons in the city. She was literally never home, but she always left me plenty of cash. It was a freak bit of zoning that had me going to Winslow, half an hour from my house, and thank the gods for my car because you couldn't catch a fucking bus to that rats nest. I was so excited to graduate and get away from there. Though gods only knew what I was going to actually DO once I got out.

Not for the first time, I considered the benefits of cape life. I'd have loved to be a cape, to be able to throw fire, or lightning, or teleport or…whatever. Any power would do. Sadly I was born without the part of the brain that allowed people to trigger, not that I particularly wanted to undergo a horrific life-ruining event anyway.

After I paid, I got in my car and headed home. My 1967 Chevy Impala (I bought it when I was really into an old Earth Aleph show about two brothers who hunted monsters) was perfectly restored and I had it serviced monthly, so it always ran smooth as silk.

Once I got to the house I carried my prizes inside and up to my room, where I slotted them into place on the expansive bookshelves lining my walls. I left them partially sticking out so I knew they hadn't been read yet, and flopped down on my bed with the odd black book.

A journal, Shiela had said. She was probably right. The lock was odd, just a tiny silver hook that looked like it could open to release the clasp.

Despite the appearance though, there was no keyhole, no possible opening I could try to pick. I wasn't sure how the lock could even unlatch at all, unless there was some kind of hidden button or catch. I started feeling around, trying to identify a spot on the clasp I might not have seen earlier.

I yelped in annoyance as I felt a sharp sting, having apparently ripped open my thumb on some unseen piece of jagged metal. I'd probably gotten tetanus from the damned thing.

I dropped the book, hissing and shaking my hand, which was why it took me a minute to notice that drops of my blood had hit the cover and the lock itself, and they were ALSO hissing. The silver lock began to glow, brighter and brighter, and without any extra fanfare beyond that, it clicked open, the book itself flopping to the side so the pages lay exposed.

Inside the book, letters began to write themselves out, dark red ink that I was pretty sure WAS my blood spelling out words as I watched, dumbfounded. It had to be some kind of tinkertech, or some weird power created item. I knew that happened sometimes, people like Dauntless who could shove their powers into normal objects and make them special even without using tinker powers to make them.

Silvertongue Points:100

Greetings storyteller! I bid you welcome to a nexus of fantastical realms. If you're reading this, you have become the most recent recipient of the Silvertongue System. Access to adventure and whimsy is at your fingertips.

"I…what?" I said blankly, staring down at the book. As if I had triggered another passage with my question, the words continued.

As the new Silvertongue, you will be able to extract elements of your favorite stories to use them to enhance the story of your own life. Items, animals, even people can be yours! Simply read aloud a selected portion of a story, and should you possess the correct amount of points, that piece of fiction will become a reality!

That was…what? That couldn't be a real thing. That was way too busted. I'd heard of crazy powers before, but this was over the top. Also I couldn't even HAVE powers. Unless this book really was tinkertech, and had somehow chosen me? What tinker could make something like this?

Since it had answered my question before, I cleared my throat. "Ummm, Silvertongue System?" I asked it hesitantly. "Can anyone use you? And where do points come from?"

The System has bound itself to the storyteller through an exchange of blood. No other being can open the storybook, nor will any other story be captured in its pages. Points will be obtained by the storyteller expanding his story, and can be spent on new plot elements. Bring stories to life, or life to stories, any of these can help you grow!

I wasn't sure what that meant. So if I read stuff out of books (which was still nuts to think about) I would use points, but it would be somehow separate from 'my' story? Or part of it? I flipped past the first page, only to read the exact scene I was experiencing being scrawled out in my handwriting in red ink.

The story was me and I was the story…my head was starting to hurt. Hard pass on thinking about that shit right now. Maybe later. I slammed the book shut. One hundred points. I could use those to make…something, real. I scrambled off my bed and over to my bookshelf, rifling through books until I found something I liked.

'Stardust' was easy to find. I hadn't read that one in ages, but I knew what I wanted from it. I flipped through the book until I found the right scene. The end of the book where Tristan gains immortality by possessing the heart of a star. Clearing my throat, I read the passage aloud, waiting with bated breath.

Across my vision, red letters began to spread, written on the air as if in blood.

Insufficient point total. B-class energy source: Heart of a Star. Point cost-10,000 Points.

Wait what? What the hell was a class? I frowned, flipping through the book to something else. The Babylon Candle. I read aloud the description of Tristan unrolling the candle from the letter his mother had left him.

Insufficient point total. C-class transportation artifact: Babylon Candle. Point cost-1000 Points.

Ok…that was a bit better. That meant I could afford something D-class? How the hell did the system even decide that? Ignoring the weirdness of the letters in my fucking vision, I picked out another item. A Snowdrop Flower. It was much less dramatic, but protection from 'dark magic' seemed like it might be useful.

I read the section where the flower was mentioned, and unlike the last few times, something actually happened. The book I was holding began to glow, shaking in my grip. The light exploded outwards, and congealed above the book into the form of beautiful white flower with glasslike petals.

Sufficient point total! D-Class protection artifact. Snowdrop Flower: Defense against 'dark magic' and good luck. Renders user invisible to thinker powers and immune to master effects when worn. Increases incidence of 'interesting events'.

I blinked in shock. That was…really fucking cool. Plucking the flower from the book, I carried it to my dresser, fumbling around until I found a tiny silver chain my mother had gotten me ages ago to hang my school ring on. Since I hated Winslow I never wore the damned thing, but I was able to rig up a loop of wire to slip the flower through and hang it around my neck.

Granted, wearing a pretty white flower around my neck wasn't the manliest thing, but hey, I wasn't going to complain about that shit.

D-class. Since B-class was one hundred times more, I'd need a hundred days for that. Or maybe less? I still didn't really get how points worked. I needed to make my story happen for that? What did that entail? Did I need to do cape shit? Was just anything enough? Working out? Reading?

I needed some kind of benchmark. I flipped open the book again, which opened at my touch, and then started rifling through pages. As I watched the words continued to write themselves. I compared the pages of the book to the points. Almost exactly one thousand words into the book was when I'd gotten the notification of my first hundred points. Was that a coincidence?

I was coming up on another thousand. I would check once I passed that number and figure out if it worked like I thought it did. Even so, it would be a slow grind to get more powerful items, or hell, especially PEOPLE. Who knew if people even cost the same. I could see them being more expensive.

Still…the possibilities were endless. I could summon so many powerful heroes or villains to work for me. So many creatures to serve or protect me. So many magical items I could use. I could become the most powerful cape in the fucking WORLD. Endbringers could bite my ass.

I just had to…get there. I had to figure out exactly how this worked. Speaking of which, watching the words appear on the page, I gave it another check, and was thrilled to see my suspicions confirmed.

Silvertongue Points:100

I could work with that. I had at least a basic idea how this thing functioned now. I needed to do more. Experiment. See exactly what constituted a story. Then, when I had more points, I needed more items, I needed to kit myself out. I had a feeling I'd need the gear for the 'interesting events' my flower promised. I couldn't wait.

January 2nd , 2011 Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, 5:00 PM EST -SP:100

I was literally shaking with the desperate need to read something else out with those damned points. The flower was cool, but immunity to thinker and master powers, while awesome, wasn't the most dynamic or interesting ability to pick up. I wanted a fucking lightsaber or something.

Despite my desperation though, I wasn't stupid. More points meant better stuff. At the very least a thousand points would get me something C-class. Not to mention I hadn't tried reading out a person or animal yet and I wanted to save up in case that cost more. Which meant I had to MAKE more points.

I just…didn't know how. I needed to do things that would show up in the book. I'd tried about a dozen activities though, and almost none of them were worthy of being part of the story I guessed. Working out, shopping, reading, almost nothing I tried warranted more than a passing mention. So I decided to take matters into my own hands and go out and do something…ill advised.

Nothing too crazy. I wasn't going to challenge Lung to a duel or punch Hookwolf. I decided to start small, but still interesting. I tracked down a Merchant I knew from Winslow and tried to buy some drugs.

Maybe not the smartest idea, but it seemed storyish without being suicidal, so there you go. It didn't take me long to get in touch, and I arranged for him to meet me at a park.

When I arrived, the guy, a complete stoner named Spud, greeted me with his usual nonchalant wave and absent smile. "Sy, my dude. You're here." He giggled lightly. "I kind of thought I was tripping again. You aren't really the type who usually buys from me."

"Spud." I said with a nod. "I've got a need for some product. I don't really want to get into it."

He waved me off. "Oh no, dude, I'm sure your reasons are totally legit. I'm not trying to judge. I've got some primo stuff on me today too. This absolutely wonderful gentle sativa my buddy Rich grows in his greenhouse."

I'd been imagining something a bit harder to be honest, but I wasn't really going to take it anyway, so I supposed it didn't matter. I fished into my pocket and handed him a twenty. He grinned and stuffed it up under the band of his beanie. "Excellent. Two dime bags it is my man." He passed me a pair of small bags of weed.

Pocketing the two of them, I looked around, not sure what the fuck I should do next. I figured since Spud was a Merchant, I might as well ask about some cape shit. That seemed storylike.

"So, I hear you're with the Archer's Bridge Merchants?" I asked carefully. "You don't seem like the gang type, so if you don't mind me asking…what's the deal?"

He shrugged. "Winslow isn't exactly neutral territory, my man. We're a melting pot of all the worst parts of the city. You've got to pick a side, and in case you missed it, I'm not exactly ABB material. My best friend is black, too, and my last name is Spudinski, which is Jewish, so no way would I ever sign up with the Empire."

I blinked. I hadn't known that last bit. One of his buddies was Jake Long, who I was pretty sure was Lung's nephew, so I'd assumed he would be under ABB protection. Even if not, well…Jake was a cape, last I heard (though that kind of thing tended to hard to confirm), and people didn't fuck with capes easily. Still, I was buying drugs off him, so I was hardly in a place to comment.

Shrugging, I thanked him for the weed and turned to leave. I'd only been walking for a few minutes out of the park when I saw something particularly storylike. I looked down at the flower. Interesting events. Fucking snowdrop.

There was a short blonde guy in baggy pants in front of me, messy hair even more fucked up than usual. I recognized him. Ron Stoppable, he hung out with Emma Barnes's cousin Kim, the cheerleader. He was one step up from Greg Veder in terms of social status, but unlike Greg he wasn't an unlikable asshole, just a little weird.

"What's the matter Stoppable?" Taunted the tall, well muscled black girl looming over him as he tried to pick up his stuff. "I didn't know you were so clumsy. Why'd you drop all your books?"

Great. Sophia Hess. Sophia was a fucking psychopath, and a cape. She somehow remained under the impression that second part was a secret, which it really wasn't. The school bent over backward to clean up her messes, and trackstar or not it was way too overboard to be for any normal reason. Plus she had this general air of arrogance that made it clear she knew something you didn't. Her whole bearing screamed cape.

Of course, the unwritten rules meant nobody could say anything, even if they figured out her cape identity, which I hadn't. Admittedly Sophia didn't fuck with seniors, which I was, so I had no reason to bother. Still, I REALLY didn't want to get on her radar. I could figure out a way to deal with her if push came to shove, but it would be a huge hassle.

That said…saving a classmate would be pretty storylike. And if I was going to write my story…I didn't want to be the kind of pansy ass to get scared off by a teenage girl, powers or not. Stoppable wasn't a bad guy, and I considered it a personal challenge to get in her face at this point, if only to prove to myself she didn't scare me.

"Hey Hess." I called casually. "Don't you have some puppies to kick? Or are you making them into a fur coat this week?"

She froze, wheeling on my slowly. When she saw who was talking, she blinked at me in surprise. "Collins? Why the hell are you standing up for Stoppable? You hit your head or some shit? Since when do you care about losers like him?"

I shrugged. "At school there's teachers and shit to muzzle you, but you're kind of nuts. I'm legitimately worried you might kill him with no one here to stop you."

Her lips pulled back in a predatory grin. "Oh, is that what you're gonna do Collins? Are you gonna stop me?" Her eyes were alight with a primal glee as she started to prowl toward me, clearly interested in a bit of violence. Shit.

But luckily for me, I wasn't stupid. "Why would I need to stop you?" I asked lightly. "You're not a threat to me. You're just a harmless high school girl. It's not like you're a cape or anything."

She froze again, her face going blank. "Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?" She said quietly. "Because IF I were a cape, IF, that's the kind of thing it's not too smart to talk about. That can get you the wrong sort of attention."

"It could." I agreed. "Me, you, Winslow. All kinds of attention for all kinds of people. That sounds like a hassle, don't you think?"

Her eyes were like chips of granite, hard and unyielding as she stared at me. I kept my own face blank as well, feigning boredom. In reality my heart was pounding out of my chest, which…was kind of embarrassing. Crazy bitch or not she was fucking fifteen. Being wary of her made me feel like a pansy, which pissed me the fuck off, which made staring her down easier. Yay.

Glancing down at where Stoppable was still trying to grab up papers, she snarled silently, before snorting and turning away. "Whatever. It's just one loser. I'll catch him later. You though, you better watch out Collins. I don't like being threatened, and who knows what might happen to you out here alone in the dark."

With that last ominous proclamation she turned and walked brazenly away into the lazy January afternoon. Which was brightly lit and not at all dark. Fucking edgelord psycho.

I walked over and offered Stoppable my hand as he finished cleaning up, pulling the other senior to his feet. "You good, man?" I asked calmly, trying to distract myself from my new probably cape nemesis.

He swallowed hard and nodded, patting his pockets until he came out with a small wrinkled form. "Rufus!" He said with relief. "Are you ok buddy?" The animal, a naked mole rat if I remembered right, squealed something unintelligible, stomping up and down on his hand in rage. He chuckled in relief, eyes shifting to me. "Huh? Oh, yeah thanks man. I appreciate it."

"It's cool." I said with a shrug. "Hess is a fucking lunatic, but she's all bark and no bite." I was actually pretty sure she WOULD have bitten me if she was close enough, but if I was going to play hero I wanted to leave a good impression. That Kim girl was a fucking smokeshow, and he might tell her about this.

His chuckle this time was sad. "Yeah. She's something all right. Still, it was a cool thing you did. You're Simon right? Simon Collins? Your mom is Amy Collins? She works with Mrs. Dr. P at Brockton General."

"Mrs. Dr. P.?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think I know anyone by that name. Or that anyone by that name has ever existed."

He grinned. "Sorry, I meant Ann Possible. Kim's mom. She's the head of neurosurgery over there. I know Doc. Collins is a coworker of hers, and they get along pretty well. I'm surprised your mom never mentioned her."

I blinked. "She's mentioned Ann, I just never knew her last name. Small world I guess. Anyway, you might want to get home man. I don't know where Hess went, but I wouldn't put it past her to come back. I'm surprised her posse isn't here actually."

He grimaced. "Emma doesn't participate when she picks on me. Kim came down hard on that, so the little brat avoids me so she has deniability. Doesn't stop Sophia. I know I shouldn't be scared of her, but she's so tall and athletic for her age and I'm so…not." He glanced down at his skinny form.

I shrugged. "We're seniors man. We're out in a few months anyway. Just bear with it and you'll never have to see that crazy little bitch again."

Not that I had that option I didn't think. She was probably going to start some shit with me. I had a few ideas about how I could protect myself though, assuming this little outing was a success and I had more points to spend.

Saying my goodbyes to Ron, I headed back to my car, climbing in and taking off for home. I could just FEEL the extra points. I knew this had worked. I'd done something interesting enough to be part of my story, and I had points to burn. Visions of powerful items and useful artifacts danced in my head as I hauled ass back to my house.

As I drove though, I considered Stoppable's comments. My mom did work with a neurosurgeon named Ann. Was Kim really her daughter? That might be an in with the toned cheerleader. Emma was a bit young for me, but Kim was a senior and she was even more gorgeous than her model cousin.

I wondered if getting a date with a sexy cheerleader would count as being storylike. I was definitely going to give it a shot. Maybe I should spend my points on something that could give me a boost in the physical department. Maybe bulk up a bit to impress the ladies. I was pretty good looking, but I didn't exactly live at the gym.

Climbing out of my car I made my way up to my room, popping the book and checking my SP. I grinned like a loon when I saw the value printed on that intro page.

Silvertongue Points: 300

I'd managed to triple my starting value. Excellent. Now I had enough to afford an item or two without draining my reserves. Let the fun begin.

January 2nd , 2011 Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, 6:00 PM EST -SP:300

Having powers was hard. My first big purchase with my newfound wealth was going to be buying something cool, like a death ray. Unfortunately, death rays were all WAY too expensive. I sifted through a dozen sci-fi novels looking for a decent one, and apparently, anything that just instakilled or even did something cool like turned a person into a couch was too expensive.

It DID give me some basic idea of how the 'classes' of weapon and armor were defined. F-class was normal shit. Anything that you could get at a store or find in your house was F-class, and to my shock, that shit only cost one point! Upon further reflection though, using a point of my hard earned SP to pick up a sandwich or a bedside lamp was kind of stupid.

E-class was high end shit. Still normal, but like artisan crafted stuff made by legendary craftsmen. E-class stuff didn't have any actual abilities other than just being well made, but it was still stuff worth owning. Those were ten points each, which was almost worth it, but I couldn't bring myself to waste the points at the moment.

D-class was where I'd settled for what I needed (also all I could afford). D-class items were magical or technological objects (people, I'd discovered, were always one rank more expensive, though I hadn't sorted what the ranks MEANT yet and wasn't planning to summon anyone until I was strong enough to protect myself) that surpassed human limits, but that weren't absurd or overpowered. My Snowdrop was probably on the high end of D-class. Those were a hundred points.

Past that things started getting murkier, but I'd managed to make a basic framework. C-class was any magical or technological item that affected multiple people, or a single person in an incredibly intense way, and B-class affected large numbers, or a single person in a way that was incredibly broken. Invincibility, immortality, superpowers. That kind of thing.

As expected, those two cost a thousand and ten thousand points respectively. Above that A-class was large scale effects that worked on like cities and states, and S-class (I'd only found like one of those in my search) seemed to be anything that would affect the whole world. A hundred thousand and a million points, as was the pattern, and WAY out of my price range.

My issue here was…well, me. I needed a weapon and some kind of defensive item. I had something in mind for the latter, but the former was kicking my ass. Anything that wasn't just point and shoot bullshit was going to be useless because I had zero training with any weapon, but all those magic and superscience items were more than I could afford.

I'd stumbled on a temporary superpower of sorts via potion (the serum from Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) that was D-class, but that hadn't worked out well for Jekyll, and I was trying to be heroic here. Still, I needed a backup in case of emergency, so I snagged that along with my defensive option, Bilbo's Coat of Mithril from Lord of the Rings (D-class obviously).

Sufficient point total! D-class transformation medium. Hyde Serum: A powerful catalyst that unleashes the dark potential inside of the drinker. User gains enhanced physical and mental capabilities at the expense of impulse control and morality.

Sufficient point total! D-class defensive artifact. Mithril Shirt: A woven shirt of the most durable dwarven mithril, incredibly durable, but limited in size and coverage, and without any additional abilities.

Which left me with a hundred points and a need for some kind of weapon I could use without any skill requirements.

I had to sift through dozens of books to find one, but I finally located a weapon I could use. I found it in an old novelization of a series of popular sci-fi games from aleph called 'Halo'. There were tons of useful weapons in there, but the only one I could afford was the 'Plasma Pistol'. A small handheld energy weapon.

Sufficient point total! D-class directed energy weapon. Plasma Pistol: A powerful single target plasma weapon, limited rate of fire and potential to overheat. Hold the trigger for an empowered blast, but beware the enhanced recoil.

Reading it out, I felt the last of my points drain away, and I made a promise to myself I was going to try to save up some more before I spent anything else. I had defense, offense, and emergency covered, and I should learn to use what I'd gotten before moving on to anything else.

So, with that in mind, I slipped on my mithril shirt (it was more of a vest, but the thing was super fine weave and incredibly lightweight, which was cool), stashed the serum somewhere safe (in a vent in my room) and took up my plasma pistol for a bit of target practice. My backyard was fenced off, which would let me do some shooting without drawing attention…probably.

When I got outside, I found a few bottles and stacked them up on some rocks near the base of the tree in the center of the yard, then looked down at the plasma pistol.

The thing was…unique. Mostly a metallic blue, with a sort of black base on the grip interrupted by an orange glowing section. The base of the grip curved up toward the mouth of the barrel, stopping about an inch from meeting and leaving a gap through which a small green charge of what looked like lightning was passing.

It was heavier than expected, but not unusable, just solid. I could thunk someone over the head with this thing if needed, not that I ever would. Raising it and remembering what the description had said about recoil, I cradled the base with my left hand and held the grip with my right, squeezing down gently and briefly on the trigger.

A burst of light exploded out of the pistol, jerking my hands up slightly, though not as bad is it could have. The gun let out a sort of high pitched 'chunk' sound as the small orb of green light sailed across the yard and smashed into the rock underneath the bottle I'd been aiming at.

There was a boom as the rock was blown apart, the bottle shattering as the rock fragments tore it apart and the concussive force hurling the fragments across the yard.

I blinked down at the gun. I couldn't keep the grin from my face as I reset my stance, anchoring my feet and setting my shoulders so the minimal recoil wouldn't affect me this time. Then I started squeezing off shots.

The pistol barked again and again as a half dozen or so orbs of energy smashed apart the rocks and bottles (and one even chewed a small hole in the trunk of the massive tree). I kept pulling until the top of the pistol clicked open and vented a cloud of green steam away from me, letting out a loud hissing noise as it did.

My hands were shaking as I stared at the tree and the torn up ground. Not because I was afraid or worried, but because I was so excited I could barely breathe. I had a fucking LASER GUN. Ok, Plasma, which wasn't the same thing, but despite being a slow energy projectile relative to lasers, it was still fucking awesome.

I REALLY wanted to try out the charged blast, but since I wasn't a fucking idiot I knew better than to risk it. The basic plasma blasts had already made a huge mess, and anything stronger and I might blow the whole fucking tree up. People wouldn't get nosy about some small explosions, gods knew I'd set off enough fireworks back here, but THAT would grab attention.

Speaking of attention…what the fuck was I going to do with this gun? Did I hide it? Where? I needed to keep it safe but I also needed it on hand if I decided to go out. Which I WOULD do. I needed more points. Needed to be a better story. I had big plans for this power, and I needed MORE.

Stashing the gun, I smuggled it back into the house, bolting upstairs into my room and looking around for any place it could be safe. Maybe under my bed? Or in the vent with the vial? My mom wasn't a nosy person but…it felt too easy. This was BROCKTON. People sucked, nowhere was safe.

I glanced around my room, but all I saw were books, wall to wall. My collection was pretty impressive, which was damned useful for reading things OUT of books, but not so useful for stor- I froze. Thinking back to what the Silvertongue System had said originally, I considered my options again.

Story elements. The items I read out were made to be elements of my own story. What if that wasn't a metaphorical statement. What if I could read my stuff INTO the book like I could read other things out.
Stumbling over to the bed, I picked up the black book, enjoying the click as it fell open at my touch. Flipping to the actual story, I found a reference to the pistol, and read it aloud as I held the gun in my hand. Red words spilled across my vision.

Story element embedded. Point cost already paid.

Hoping I hadn't just wasted the points I'd already spent, I read the passage again, and was delighted as the book flashed and my gun reappeared in my hand. Running over to the vent, I pulled out the vial of serum. Reading the passage mentioning it, I grinned as the same thing appeared.

I read the gun back in as well, snapping the book closed and clicking the lock into place. I did it. I found a place to store my items when I wasn't using them. It was amazing. They would be completely safe in there, since no one but me could use or even access the book.

With a brief glance down, I considered adding my mithril shirt to the book as well but…it was really inconspicuous and defense didn't do any good in storage. I threw another shirt on over it though, just so it wasn't visible.

With all that settled, I considered what my next move should be. Checking the book I saw that all this had been story worthy, and had netted me a fresh hundred points, coming up on two hundred, which made sense. I'd been doing some interesting shit here just now. But the testing and acquisition was over with now, so I needed to find something else.

I wanted to go out and do more crazy shit, but it was Sunday, and Winslow started back up tomorrow. I couldn't let anyone notice anything different about me. Not as weak and dependent on stuff as I was right now. Sophia might not give a shit about being obvious, but I did. At least in terms of showing off my gear.

At the same time, I needed to do story worthy stuff. I'd already decided to try to ask out Kim, maybe Ron would put in a good word. That would be storyish. I could put off going out to do cape shit until the weekend.

As bad as I hoped to enjoy the fruits of my labor, showing up to school tired and potentially injured on the first day back would SCREAM cape. Once a few days had passed it would be easier to pass off any accidents as normal shit. So I'd wait.

Downstairs, I heard the door slam, and grinned to myself. Mom was home early today, that was rare. I should go down and say hey. Plus I'd have to mention I was lighting off 'fireworks' in the yard again. That should avert suspicion after my little plasma party. Then I would get ready for school. I was sure it would be a hell of a first day back.

January 3rd, 2011 Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, 6:00 AM EST -SP:200

I admit I had a bit of a spring in my step when I climbed out of bed and headed downstairs. "Hey ma." I said as I made my way into the kitchen. "Surprised you're still home. You're usually already gone when I wake up."

My mother snorted. "And miss my boy's last first day of school? Soon you'll be grown and out of the house, too old to come visit your doting old mom." She buttered a piece of toast on her plate of eggs, which she didn't make me any of, though she apparently HAD decided to make me some toast, which I could see in the toaster from where I stood.

"I WISH you were old." I told her with a grimace. "I've had to punch out at least three guys I might have become friends with for using the M word when they saw you. This is what happens when you have a kid in high school. You doom them to a lifetime of listening to hot mom comments."

She smirked at me, tossing her long dark hair over a shoulder. "Not to mention I'm a doctor. I AM quite a catch. Not just any man can handle Amy Collins. M.D." She whipped her head to the side, making a ridiculous posed face she'd been unable to stop making ever since I brought home an old aleph copy of Zoolander.

"Well if all else fails I can just show them that expression." I said deadpan. "They'll run for the hills. Although, speaking of doctors, your friend Ann, does she happen to have a daughter?"

Her face lit up. "Oh, you mean Kimmy? Such a sweet girl. She comes to visit her mother at the hospital all the time. She likes to volunteer with Panacea. You'd know her if YOU ever came to my work."

"I'm eighteen." I said flatly. "And I'm not a saint, so I have no interest in hospital volunteering." I paused. "Though…maybe I could make some time." Not for the girl, I didn't need to pander to get a date, but hospitals were dramatic places. Volunteering to heal sick people felt VERY storyish.

Her eyes went comically wide, and she placed a hand to my forehead. "Are you feeling alright honey? Do you smell toast?"

"Yes." I said flatly. "And it's burning. You should probably get it out of the toaster." She yelped and scrambled across the kitchen, popping the toaster to retrieve the blackened remains of the bread inside. I grabbed one of the buttered NON burned pieces on the table and dashed out of the house while she was distracted, calling back. "Thanks for breakfast love you bye!"

Shoving it in my mouth, I hopped into my car, yanking it out of park and peeling off toward Winslow as I munched on the buttered bread. Traffic was pretty much nonexistent this early, so I made good time, and I managed to slide into my seat in AP chemistry right before the bell rang, exhaling in relief that I made it as I did.

"Cutting it close." Drawled the mellow voice of the very same guy I'd bought weed from the night before. I turned to see Spud giving me a dopey grin. "Partaking a bit too deeply of my party favors, huh amigo?"

I laughed at the assumption, shaking my head. "Nah." I said with a shrug. "Just slept in. Did I miss anything?"

He put on a contemplative expression. "Well you missed the first rays of morning sun peeking of the horizon my dude. That's a most egregious tragedy." He chuckled. "I like to watch the sunrise high. A little wake and bake."

"I'm pretty sure you like to do everything high, Spud." I said with a smirk. "But I meant class related stuff. Sometimes Mr. Lassiter likes to give little preview assignments for tests before the bell. Because he's evil and likes to see us all suffer." Giving classwork outside classtime was fucking criminal, and no one could convince me otherwise.

Staring around the classroom, something else occurred to me though. This was a lab. A lab a lot like the one Dr. Henry Jekyll used to design the serum that turned him into Edward Hyde.

Part of me really wanted to see if I could find out anything about the Hyde Serum. I wasn't going to take it. Not unless I was up against a wall, but…how did it work? How did any of the shit I had work? Could I recreate it? Did I want to?

The serum unleashed your darkest self. Your id. The hungry horny violent part of you people locked away in polite society. Granted, Hyde wasn't REALLY evil. Not unless you were a repressed Victorian scientist. But still, he wasn't NICE either. I remembered the description. Removal of inhibitions and morality. That was…rough.

I spent the rest of that class staring at various beakers and test tubes. Eventually, I decided NOT to bring out the vial. It was too dangerous to have around here. Too tempting. I wanted powers, and the vial was a quick and easy way to get them.

Hyde was strong. No limiters a normal human had, just animal instinct, violence, and rage. I would have super strength, or something like it. And MY Hyde wouldn't be Jekyll's Hyde. He'd just be me. Me with no limits. With no remorse. He'd be a monster. I shouldn't have read out that vial. I didn't need it. No one needed that. It had been the cheapest bottled superpower I could find though. And it seemed like such a good idea at the time.

I forced my mind away from it as class ended and I slipped past Spud. Next up was History, which I mostly daydreamed through, trying desperately to think of some alternative to the serum I could afford. Then I was forced to toss it to the back of my mind, because it was lunch, and I had a girl to chat up.

Looking around the cafeteria, it took me a minute to find Stoppable, and I made my way over to slump down across from him, shooting the blonde a nod. "Hey Ron." I said as I sat. "Figured I'd see how you were doing after yesterday. Sophia bother you again today?"

Being the consummate ladies man I am, I did NOT glance up at Kim, who was sitting next to him, but when she heard what I said, her head snapped around to glare at her friend. "Yesterday?" She said sharply. "What happened yesterday? You said you were going to Wade's to play video games."

Her voice was almost accusatory, and Ron turned to glare at me in annoyance. "It was fine KP." He said with an easy smile. "I ran into Hess at the park. She was being a pain, but Simon helped me out. I'm all good."

Green eyes locked onto mine, her teeth worrying her lip for a second as she brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "Oh." She sighed heavily. "I'll talk to Emma. She said she asked Sophia to leave you alone, but she doesn't have that much influence over her." Her eyes flicked to the younger redhead, holding court at the popular table with Bonnie Rockwaller.

Ron sighed. "KP…Emma isn't the same person she used to be. She's been different for a while now. I know you care a lot about her but-."

"No!" Snapped the redhead, hands slamming down on the table. "There's nothing wrong with Emma. It's Sophia. That girl is bad news. She makes Emma do things she doesn't want to do. Like pick on poor Taylor, and Sophia even comes after you. I swear if she doesn't back off…"

"Let's…not say things we don't mean." I interjected, seeing that thought for the trainwreck that it was. Kim had a body like a champion gymnast, tight and toned and dear gods dat ass could crack concrete, but I didn't think she was a cape. "Sorry to step into something, I was just coming to check on Ron. You're Kim right? Ann's daughter? My mom is Amy Collins, from Brockton General, she mentioned you two had met before."

Giving her something to focus on seemed to work. "What?" She looked away from the table. "Sorry. Yeah." She seemed to take a moment to process. "Oh! You must be Simon. Your mom has mentioned you. Apparently you're the laziest human being on earth."

I burst out laughing at that. "You know? I was pretty sure I was in the running, but I couldn't be bothered to check. Nice to know I took home the gold."

She shot me a shy smile as she giggled at my comment. Ron just rolled his eyes as she leaned in a bit. "Thanks, by the way. For helping Ron." Her smile dimmed. "He…doesn't have the easiest time. Winslow isn't the nicest place. I try to keep him out of trouble, but he's an easy target." She glanced at him with a wince. "Not that I blame you, Ron. It's not your fault. I just worry."

He gave her a pained smile. "I know KP. Thanks for lookin' out." Poor guy. He was carrying a big flaming torch for the bendy redhead. I could see it plain as day. Sadly for him, I wasn't a saint, and I wanted her pretty bad myself. He'd find another girl, I was sure.

"So, Kim." I said with a chuckle. "I heard from my mom you volunteer at BG sometimes. I was thinking of signing up for a shift. Think you could show me around?"

Her face lit up. "Of course! That's so nice. We never have enough volunteers. Poor Amy is so overworked. Panacea I mean. I try to take some of the burden off her, even if I don't have powers. She's always so happy to have help. And so friendly too!"

That…didn't sound at ALL like the Panacea I'd heard about. Panacea was notoriously grumpy. Like, everyone in the city knew that. You had to go to her hat in hand for healing, because if you annoyed her she'd just leave you to bleed.

Still, one didn't argue with sexy redheads, so I just smiled and nodded. "Sounds fun. You can introduce me." I grimaced. "Or, not fun, because sick people but…you know what I mean."

She giggled, pushing her hair behind her ear. "So not the drama. I got you. When were you thinking of going? I actually have a shift after school if you want to come? We can take the bus together."

"Or I can drive." I said with a shrug. "My car is the Impala in the parking lot. The big black one made of like…wrought iron." I chuckled self deprecatingly despite fucking loving my car, just in case she was really into the environment.

Her cheeks flushed. "Oh, sure. I can ride with you. If you want." She glanced at Ron, who looked like he wanted to sink into his chair. "You good to bus home alone? Sophia won't bother you if you take the bus. Emma says she avoids going downtown."

The poor guy deflated, but offered up a wispy smile. "Yeah, KP. I can do that. No big." I winced internally. I made a mental note to help Ron get a girl. He seemed like an ok guy, and he was obviously gonna be wrecked by this whole thing. I wasn't passing up a shot at a girl like Kim, but I could help him score with someone, maybe that would cheer him up and helping a nerd get laid was sure to net me some points.

Sadly for him, that was a problem for future Simon. Current Simon had a redhead to flirt with. Lunch was over far too soon, and I was sad to see Kim leave, but I was THRILLED to watch her go, enjoying the flex of that sculpted cheerleader ass in those jeans. Before I went back to class, I did a quick check of the book, grinning as I spotted the two hundred new points. A hot date and progress with my power. This had been a good day.

January 3rd, 2011 Winslow High School, Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, 4:00 PM EST -SP:400

Kim met me outside after school got out. She'd changed into a set of scrubs I guess she had on hand. They looked fantastic on her, as did most things. I had to admit, the Barnes/Possible family had excellent genes. Emma was a cutie, even if she was a bit young for me, or she wouldn't be such a popular model.

While she wasn't quite as tall, Kim had a toned, flexible body honed by years of working out and practicing gymnastics and cheerleading, and I definitely didn't hate the way her outfit hung on her compact frame.

"You ready to go?" She chirped at me as she approached. I was leaning against my car, trying to look cool and disaffected because I thought it would help mask how nervous I was.

I was a good looking guy, but I was also incredibly introverted. I was thin and pale and kept to myself, which either made women think of me as a weird loner or a romantic sensitive type. My last girlfriend, Cassie, had moved out of town about a year and a half ago and I hadn't been on a date since. I didn't know if this counted, but it seemed like it might.

Oddly, my hand slipped into the pocket of my hoodie and ran over the cover of my book. Something about the leather made me feel calm and confident. I gave her a relaxed smile. "Sure thing. Hop in." I rapped on the hood, enjoying the metalling bang my knuckles made on the heavy metal of my car, then slipped in.

Kim got in the other side, and I briefly wished I'd gotten a convertible, but I banished the thought because my car was just so fucking cool. I hit the radio, and a CD kicked on, an old Quiet Riot song I'd picked up from a big bargain bin of aleph music.

We didn't talk much on the way to the hospital. Kim seemed pretty at home in the car, windows down, her long red hair whipping around her face as she sang along to 'Come on feel the Noise'. It was a nice moment, and it helped me calm down a bit and get out of my own head about this date.

When we got to the hospital, Kim passed the guard a lanyard with an ID on it. He swiped it, smiling down at her as he passed it back. "You and your friend have a great day Miss Possible." Saint the kind faced older man, his dark skinned face lined with plenty of wrinkles that showed his smile was a common sight on his face.

"Thanks Lazlo." Kim chirped. "You don't work too hard now. My mom told me how you're always doing extra sweeps when she works late to check up on her."

He just chuckled. "Well Dr. Possible isn't a hard woman to like. I feel better knowing that she's safe and sound, especially considering she's always in there saving folks. Make sure she eats somethin' will you?"

Kim chirped an agreement and the arm of the gate opened, letting us into the hospital parking lot. She steered me to a spot she said would be open, then we got out and she grabbed my hand, dragging me into the hospital entryway and up onto the elevator. "I can't wait to introduce you to Amy." She gushed. "She's always so happy to have helpers."

She smacked a few of the buttons, and I raised an eyebrow. "So…doesn't this freak you out a bit? You seem so calm and upbeat. It must be pretty crazy in her sometimes though."

Her smile wilted a bit. "Well…we mostly spend time in pediatrics. Mom is a neurosurgeon with a subspecialty in pediatrics. I know your mom is head of cardiac surgery, and she consults sometimes. I don't see a lot of the bloody stuff, I mostly just spend time with the need a lot of attention, because they're really scared."

"That's where you met Panacea?" I asked as the elevator stopped. "She does a lot of work in pediatrics?"

She smiled and nodded. "Amy helps everyone. She has a rotation for different hospitals, but she always tries to drop in on the pediatric ward. My mom's patients can't benefit so much, because Amy doesn't work on brains, but she helps all the kids she can. We're so lucky to have her."

I felt like…kind of an asshole honestly. I got powers and bought a plasma blaster and a magic suit of armor. Panacea helped heal sick kids all day. Was I a shallow asshole? Probably. I made a promise to myself to at least TRY to do some good when I could.

Kim led me out of the elevator and down the hall, past a large nurses desk and into a back office with a bunch of desks pushed against the walls in cubicles. In the back, I saw a dark haired familiar form sipping coffee in a pair of pink scrubs, and her face lit up when she saw me. "Simon!" Squealed my mom. "I can't believe you're here!" She turned a sly smirk to Kim. "Kimmy you're a miracle worker. How did you get him to come in?"

Chuckling, the redhead shook her head. "It was all him Dr. Collins. Is my mom around? I wanted to stop in before I take Simon up to meet Amy."

My mom's wince was quick enough to be overlooked if you didn't know her, but it convinced me that my experience with Panacea was unlikely to be as pleasant as Kim seemed to think it would be. She must like Kim more than most.

"Sorry sweetie." She said with a tired smile. "Anne had to step out to talk to a patient. I'll tell her you stopped in. Maybe we can meet up in the cafeteria for dinner in a bit. Assuming my son is sticking around."
"I'm here for the next few hours if you'll have me." I said with a shrug. "I don't know what people…do, when volunteering. But Kim agreed to show me the ropes."

I could literally SEE my mom bite back some sort of bondage related comment when I said that, apparently she didn't want to upset Kim. After we said our goodbyes I gave her a hug and we headed back out into the halls, Kim escorting me to the stairs and up a floor to the pediatric wing, where we found a tired looking red haired girl in a red trimmed white cloak eating lunch by a window.

"Amy!" Squealed Kim happily as we rounded the corner. "I'm so totally glad you're taking some time off. You work way too hard." The dour looking girl's face lit up as she raised her head, but her enthusiasm waned as she noticed me. Kim didn't seem to catch it. "This is Simon Collins. He's Doc Collins' son. He came to help us out!"

Amy did NOT seem excited to have help. Not from me. She seemed borderline hostile. Her body language was closed off and her eyes were hard as she looked at me, but she forced a smile. "Nice to meet you Simon. I'm Panacea."

I gave her a neutral nod. "I've heard of you. Thanks for all your hard work. Kim was telling me how much you do for the kids."

Her expression softened slightly as she looked at the perkier redhead. "Kim is the one who does a lot. I have powers and I just fix up bodies. Kim lifts their spirits." Her cheeks flushed a little as she stared into the cheerleader's admittedly absurdly green eyes. Ah, that would do it. The healer had a crush. I couldn't fault her taste.

"Hey why don't I go get changed into some scrubs." I said with a smile. "I assume that's standard uniform. Do they have any I can use?"

"Oh sure!" Said Kim happily. "There's a break room with some lockers down that hall. The blue one with the tape on it is the spare and it's never locked. Just snag a set that fits and change in the bathroom. We can wait here for you."

Amy seemed to like that idea, relaxing at the realization she didn't have to share her crush quite yet. I nodded and headed back in the direction Kim pointed. Rounding a corner, I stepped into the break room…and froze.

In front of me was a man. A relatively tall man with a bare chest and a tiger mask, trying to jimmy open a locked locker with a crowbar. A man I recognized from the news. I silently cursed my fucking Snowdrop for leading me to 'interesting events' as he heard the door open and turned to face me. I blinked in shock, frozen at the sight of the nazi cape inside the hospital, and his hand blurred up, lashing out at my chest with his claws.

The slashes of air hit my dead center…which is the only thing that saved me. My mithril shirt tanked almost all the damage, only knocking me back into a stumble. My hand went to my hoodie pocket, tapping the lock on my book. With the book open, I recited the passage about my gun from memory without taking it out, and to my delight, it appeared in my hand.

Stormtiger was lashing out again with a hand, but my gun came up faster. I blasted the hand with the air shell he'd been condensing, and the fucking thing exploded, showering the lockers with gore as he howled and clutched at it.

My second shot, fired only a second later, slammed into his masked head and shattered the mask, snapping his skull back and slamming it into the locker bay behind him. His free hand dropped the crowbar, and he slid down the locker slowly, eyes vacant in his bloody face where the mask had been shredded.

I cursed, pulling out my book and reading away my gun. I scrambled into the locker room, panicking as I looked around. I reached down to check his pulse, but I got nothing. He was fucking dead. I killed him. He was a nazi and he was robbing a fucking hospital, so I shouldn't be TOO upset about it, but I'd KILLED somebody.

There were noises outside, someone had heard the explosion. They were coming. They were going to see the body. I was going to get taken away by the PRT or something. They were going to fucking Birdcage me!

Panicking, I picked up the crowbar and ran to the window, smashing out the glass of the partially open pane. That must be how he got in. Running back to the body I considered throwing it out, but it would be obvious and stupid and they would definitely notice. Thinking quick, I decided to try something crazy.

Pulling out my book, I glanced down at the bloody and partially burned body and the blood around it. Saying a silent prayer, I flipped through the book, finding the page I was on, and started reading the description of Stormtiger.

The book began to glow, as did the body, and with a shimmer, the corpse, blood, burnt bits and all, vanished. All that was left was a banged up locker bank with some dents and a few burns. I stared down at the book in shock. I hadn't known it could do that. Store things that weren't purchased with points. My shock compounded when I saw a red message roll across my vision.

D-class parahuman story element 'Stormtiger' incorporated. One hundred Silvertongue points gained.

I froze. Staring down at the new point value in the book as I watched the words scrawl themselves on the page. I'd…gotten points for that. I could read things INTO the book for points? That…that changed a lot of things. Of course, I didn't have time to think about that because the door burst open, security storming in. Right. I was at a murder scene. Time to do some storytelling.

AN:/ As usual pat-reon has the advance chapters at that site /malcolmtent (five chapters in advance of QQ, totalling 10k words of advance content) hope everyone enjoys!