January 4th 2016, Gotham City Dump. Gotham City, New Jersey, 10:00 PM EST
I hated the dump. It would be a shock to most people, because my happy ass was in here every weekend. Saturday night was a fairly laid back time to be here too, but I just…despised this place. Not that it mattered. I needed to comb through the trash to find useful or valuable shit to sell. I picked up a box with a destroyed front, shaking it and noticing there was something inside.
[Object found: Broken Toaster. Grade: Tin. Quality: Trash. The non-functional remains of a store bought toaster, thrown away because of a broken slide. Value: NA]
I growled, hurling the damned thing out into the trash piles. Worthless. I needed to get lucky. No one in the Club market was going to buy a Tin grade piece of literal garbage. Anything below Common quality was worthless, and my Skills were only barely approaching the level of making something Common when I got lucky. I needed really high quality, which meant getting lucky and finding the perfect item to work on.
Buying time in dungeons was expensive. Everyone on-world with Club membership was stronger than me, and even though we looked out for each other, we were all competitive. Sighing, I pulled up my stat sheet, staring glumly at the same numbers that had been there for weeks.
[Name: Leon Halcyon
Affiliation: The Club (Tin)
Level: 5
XP: 450/600
Class: Alchemist (Uncommon)
Statistics: Strength- 11
Endurance- 7
Agility- 9
Intelligence- 23
Wisdom- 31
Willpower- 14
HP: 70/70
MP: 230/230
Skills: Purify (Un)- Lvl 5, Reduce (C) - Lvl 8, Refine (R) - Lvl 3, Analyze (C) - Lvl 10]
It was…underwhelming. I'd been stuck at level five for almost a month now. Experience was only gatherable in two ways, completing and selling potions, which required money and ingredients, or killing stuff, which required a dungeon. Or a death wish, at least in Gotham. I wasn't getting involved in murdering people in a city where fucking Batman lived.
Six months ago, I had stumbled upon an old shop in a back alley and picked up a solid black card with a gold C on it. It had been cheap, and interesting, and I was bored and lived alone in a shitty one bedroom apartment, so sometimes I'd pick up useless shit to add to me collection. I was a bit of a pack rat.
When I removed the card from its package, I'd cut myself, and it had activated, taking me to the local Clubhouse, where I'd learned some…interesting things.
The Club was a multiversal organization that scouted for the most talented and ingenious people in any universe. The one percent of the one percent in terms of capability. Take the hardest standardized test in the world while fighting pterodactyls balanced on a tight rope over an open Volcano and get every answer right plus extra credit and you might be the kind of person that got scouted to be a Club member.
Of course, this stringent recruiting policy meant the club was understandably light on members (though not as light as you might expect given the size of the multiverse), so the Club had added another possible attribute to scout for, just to keep things interesting. Luck.
Finding an old Club membership card in a run down store in Gotham qualified me as lucky enough to earn a place in the Club (albeit at the lowest grade of membership, Tin) and I'd been initiated to their ways and secrets. Which is to say, I'd been inducted into the system the club used to track progress and enable growth.
My life was now a video game. I wasn't the only club member in this universe, surprisingly. There were a few dozen of us here, some lucky like me, some the genuine article of freakish talent.
One other thing I'd gained from the Club was access to their marketplace. People from an infinite number of universes could sell or buy anything their heart desired (provided they were high enough membership grade to have access to that portion of the store). Which was why I was here in the middle of the night in June in the garbage dump of America's garbage dump.
The Club had various services that helped people advance. Buying dungeon access had gotten me to level five, but I'd spent all the money I'd been given with my welcome box, and now I was basically fucked financially. I perked up as I spotted something interesting. A keg. I picked it up and used Analyze.
[Object found: Ruined cask. Grade: Tin. Quality: Waste. A broken cask of aging liquor, tainted with rain water and various unsanitary liquids. Value: NA]
I grinned. It would have been a worthless find for anyone else. Waste was even worse than Trash quality-wise, which was impressive, but my interest was piqued. Not by the actual object itself, or even what was in it, but the sheer quantity of it. I dropped it in my inventory, and after scavenging around for anything else useful decided it was my best bet for a profit.
Scaling the fence in the same spot I'd come in I climbed in my junker of a car and drove back to my place in the narrows. I parked in the street, unworried about theft because stealing my trash heap of a car would be more trouble than any self respecting thief would go through, and then headed upstairs to my apartment.
I was propositioned twice, threatened once, and someone tried to sell me drugs, which I might have bought if I had any money, just to see what I could do with them with my skills. Sadly I was broke, so I ignored the cajoling, and once I entered my apartment locked and bolted the door.
With a sigh, I pulled out the cask, setting it on the ground and heading into my kitchen to get a large glass jug. I brought them both to the living room and set them on my coffee table, considering my next move. I knew what I had to do, but obviously I didn't want to do it in the wrong order and fuck up the product.
First thing I did was wash down every accessible part of the cask, just as a place to start. Once that was done, I used Purify. A wave of calming blue light washed over the cask, and a plume of dark vapor rose up from it.
I used it again. And again. Each time more vapor came up, but each time the vapor was a bit lighter. Eventually, after about fifteen uses of the skill (ten mana apiece) the vapor stopped altogether. I glanced inside, and sure enough, I could see fairly light colored yellowish liquid that smelled vaguely of rye.
This batch had been weak, which was probably why it was tossed, but that didn't matter to me. I cast Reduce, condensing the liquid into a purer form. The yellow darkened to an amber color, and when I took a sniff it seemed stronger.
The reduction cost twenty mana, and the resulting liquor was closer to what I wanted. The next part was the iffy part.
Refine was…a hard skill to describe. It was my only rare skill, and from what I could tell, it raised the quality of something by kind of purging useless parts of it. Whatever it did, it meant when the process ended I had a better product, but much less of it.
I had to use Reduce to use Refine, because it condensed the substance down and I guess gave it more potential? Whatever the case, by the time I finished the Reduction process, I only had about five gallons left of the liquor. Opening the jug, I adjusted it so it was right next to the cask, then closed my eyes to take a few deep breaths.
Sitting there like that, I let my mana tick back up. I'd used a hundred and seventy points of the stuff for the first part of my process, and this next bit would be rough.
With thirty one wisdom I regenerated three point one mana per minute. It wasn't a fast process, but after a half hour of deep breathing (regeneration of HP or MP only happened when I was in a meditative state or sleeping) I'd regained ninety three mana and was ready to start.
Focusing on the liquid still in the cask, I cast Refine. The liquid floated up out of the cask and hovered over the jug. Pushing my mana into the liquid, I slowly crushed it down as the skill showed me how to do. The liquid got denser, but more than that, it changed. The mana I was pumping in was acting as a catalyst, burning the potential of the liquor to raise its quality.
My fourteen willpower kept it in place over the jug, and with a small release of the effort keeping it compacted, the liquid started to drain out the bottom of the glowing sphere.
One hundred fifty three mana, then one hundred twenty, then one hundred. It was bottoming fast, but I ignored the strain and the ache in my head, knowing that I was going to be getting XP for this. This was real alchemy, it was a two for one deal. XP and something to sell. It was perfect.
Finally I finished, slumping forward to catch myself on the table. I panted as I waited for the strain to pass, then put the cork in the glass jug I'd used and Analyzed the results.
[Object found: Spiced Rum. Grade: Tin. Quality: Unommon. A jug of delicious spiced rum. Better than the average fare on the selves, this beverage is a welcome addition to a night of fine company. Value: 1 silver.]
I grinned. Perfect. It wasn't some legendary elixir or anything, but it was solid rum. I could sell it at the market for a silver, which was nothing to sneeze at. A silver was a tenth of the way to a dungeon ticket. Not to mention the other benefit.
[Name: Leon Halcyon
Affiliation: The Club (Tin)
Level: 5
XP: 500/600]
Five hundred XP. Fifty more than earlier. I laughed, dropping the jug into my inventory as I slumped back on the couch.
The club had given me a lot of advantages, a lot of options for who I wanted to be. But I was still climbing up to that point. As a level five Alchemist, I was hardly an impressive physical specimen. Every level gave me five stat points to spend, but I'd been dumping them mostly into intelligence and wisdom to help with my MP and regen. Willpower was become slowly more important too.
Of course, all that would have to wait. I'd need to go to the local Clubhouse to access the market. You needed to be Iron grade to access it remotely, which meant above level twenty five. There were a few of those in town (or in this world I guessed, apparently the Clubhouse had multiple access points across the globe) but most of us were still Tin grade.
But that couldn't stand. The world was becoming more dangerous. Stories circulated through the Clubhouse about local kids going missing. Someone targeting metahumans, a group Club members were often assumed to be part of. Things were heating up, and I didn't want to be some level five punk ass when shit hit the fan.
For now though, I'd managed to make myself some nice XP, get myself a bit of money, and I could use it to either get my levels up dungeon diving or buy some VERY cool materials to make into potions, liquor, poisons, or any number of useful concoctions.
My head was killing me though, and for now it was just time to sleep. I could deal with Club business tomorrow. As I lay down on my couch (I was still filthy and I didn't want to get my bed dirty) I smiled to myself as I drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a good day. I could just feel it.
January 5th 2016, The Clubhouse. Gotham City, New Jersey, 10:00 AM EST
I slept HARD. Using my willpower like that was exhausting, and after hours digging through trash I was just wiped. Waking up to a bright Sunday morning was nice, except the slight magic hangover I had left the sunbeams lancing into my head like icepicks.
Dragging myself to my shower, I washed up, considered making myself some nice soap and shampoo, then threw on my clothes and headed out. My junker was right where I left it, and as I climbed in, I took off for the Clubhouse with a noticeable pep in my metaphorical step.
I'd been rethinking my approach since last night, and I had a plan for how to improve a lot faster than the safe and glacial way I'd been grinding.
Arriving at the alley where the Club hid this entrance, I looked around to make sure the coast was clear before heading in. I made my way to the end of the alley, stopping in front of a small dark door tucked into the brick of the building and pulled my card from my inventory. Sliding it into the lock on the door handle, I pushed it open and breathed a sigh of contentment as I entered.
The Clubhouse was…lavish. The entryway was a huge open lobby with glass windows on all sides. Each of the sides of the dodecagon looked out onto a different jungle or forest or mountain. Some looked to be on earth, some looked a bit more exotic, but all were beautiful and humbling.
In the center of the lobby was a sort of pit in the floor where a restaurant sat, and there were desks for different things in each of the windowed sections. I headed for the pit first, taking the stairs down to greet the other Club members nearby. There were only a few of us around right now, most of the more powerful members didn't bother with the pit.
One of the other Tin grades, a more recent entrant to the Club, was sitting at a table looking as sullen as usual, and I dropped down across from him. "Evening Jay." I said to the bad tempered young man.
"Leon." He grunted. "You got something you want to talk about? Because I'm enjoying my drink."
I sighed. "I've been thinking." I said slowly. "I know you're a Gothamite from back when. I need some help with a job." I'd been considering what to do with the money from that jug. Saving it for a dungeon run was great, but combat tended to give less XP than just working on my alchemy. "I want to hire you to help me break into Poison Ivy's Greenhouse at the Botanical Gardens."
Leveling up my Skills, making money, getting XP. Last night had reminded me that Alchemy could give me all three if I focused on it. The main issue was materials, I needed something useful and interesting to make into potions if I wanted to sell any.
There weren't a lot of places in this universe where I could get rare reagents, but Ivy's place was definitely one of the best, and it was in the same town. How could I resist?
Jason Todd, former Gotham resident, former member of the League of Assassins, and sometimes drinking buddy, set down his brandy and raised an eyebrow at me in the closest thing I'd ever seen to shock from him.
"I'm sorry. Are you VERY stoned?" He asked bluntly. "Or am I? Because what could POSSIBLY convince you that was a good idea."
I waved a hand. "It's not as dangerous as you might think. I have a few brews that will prevent her poisons from affecting us. You're a certified ninja badass. Between the two of us we can get in, steal some rare plants and bail. She's in Belle Reve last I heard."
"See, this is why the club is so dangerous." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It gives complete newbies the idea that they understand the way the world works."
I winced. "I'm not stupid. If she was there I'd have never suggested it. But since the place is empty, we can totally pull this off." Last night was the most exciting night I'd had in months. I'd been scavenging up useless crap to scavenge, only managing to make one or two things that were worth even a copper. At one hundred to one, a silver was a windfall I couldn't pass up. Not to mention the possible XP.
"No." Said Jason bluntly. "We can't. Ivy leaves sentient plants all over that place. Most of them could eat us for breakfast. Don't let the fact that Gotham baddies are nominally human fool you. They play in a whole other League. Everyone on the cape scene does." He stared at me hard. "Shit. You're going to get yourself killed."
I bristled at that. "No I'm not. I've been doing this for months. I'm not an idiot. I lay low, avoid capeshit. I just…got a little excited."
"And the next time you get excited?" He asked tiredly. "When I'm not around to talk you out of it? When you decide the Penguin or some of his goons are easy marks because they're human?" Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper. Scribbling down an address, he passed it to me.
I took it, not recognizing the location. "What's this?" I asked cautiously.
"Grant's Gym." He said tiredly. "The guy who owns it is an old…I guess you could call him a mentor. I'm not turning down your job. Because if I don't give you something to focus on you'll do it anyway, I'm sure. So instead, you and I are going to do some training. We can do the job, but only when I say you're ready."
I held up the slip. "Then why send me here? Why not train my yourself."
"Because I'm not a teacher." He shrugged. "I'm good in a fight, but Ted can give you an actual foundation. Once he does the groundwork, I can beat you into shape. But I want you to promise me you won't do something stupid until we finish. In fact, I think it would be a good idea for you to invest the coin you were going to pay me in picking up an unarmed combat Skill."
That made me wince. Skill books were expensive, even just Tin grade. With my silver I could probably pick up something on the higher end. Maybe even a rare Skill, but it would be harder to raise it. Rare Skills were a bitch to level, which was why my Refine was only level three.
Still, Jay did know his stuff. I'd been kind of floundering for a while. Trying to get stronger without knowing how. Ivy's garden was a Botanical Treasure Trove, and if I needed to do some training to get access…well I'd do it. Nodding, I stood up. "Alright man. I trust you. If you're really willing to do this if I go through your training…I'll do the work."
He looked relieved. "Good. Like I said, you're a decent guy, Leon. I don't want to see you eaten by a plant monster or some shit. Being in the Club does not mean you're ready for what Gotham is cooking."
"I'll hit up Grant's Gym, and then I'll be back." I said with a laugh. "We can figure out where to go from there after that."
He shrugged. "You know me, man. I never leave the Clubhouse. Got a few too many interested parties in the outside world. That's another reason we need to wait. If I'm going to do this with you I need the heat to die down a bit, and I might need to help it along."
I held out my fist and he bumped it. I saw a weariness in his eyes, one I'd always mistaken for ennui. But under that I could see a bit of a spark that hadn't been there before. Maybe this would be good for both of us.
Climbing out of the pit, I headed to the table set up in front of an alien forest with purple trees. A smartly dressed man with slicked back hair sat behind it. "Welcome to the Tin Grade Marketplace." He said cheerily. "Buying or selling." He gestured to a pair of boxes in front of him, one white and one black, both closed.
"Both." I said, withdrawing the jug from my inventory and offering it to him. He gestured to the white box, and I lifted the lid and dropped it inside. Sure enough, there was a ding soon after and the man withdrew a silver coin and passed it to me.
He raised an eyebrow at me. "And your purchase?" For whatever reason, sellers didn't have to pay a fee on marketed items, but there was a percentage charge on items bought. I had a few coppers left on me from the last time I'd made a sale, so I could afford it. I reached down and picked up a black leatherbound book.
"Unarmed Combat Skills." I murmured into the tome, and then flipped it open. As I watched, skills began to fill the page. I took a quick look over the available selection.
[Tin grade Unarmed Combat Skills :
Boxing (C) -10 Copper
Brawling (C) -10 Copper
Combat Savant (R) -10 Silver
Capoiera (Un) - 1 silver
Collar and Elbow wrestling (Un) - 1 silver
Dravik Murder Puppetry (R) - 10 Silver
Eternal Sin Striking Style (E) - 1 Gold…]
I frowned. Within Tin grade (the first twenty five levels) there were multiple rarities, but only the ones over Common really mattered. Which was to say Common, Uncommon, Rare, Epic, Legendary, Mythic, and Divine.
These rarities generally corresponded to being able to compare to Skills of higher grades. A Legendary Tin grade Skill was about as effective as a Common Iron grade. That was a much bigger advantage than it sounded like, but sadly, I didn't have the cash for anything past Uncommon.
Based on the rarities displayed, I was pretty sure the Common skills were general fighting styles, the Uncommons were specific disciplines, and everything above that were rare or unusual combat arts from around the multiverse. Honestly the Combat Savant Skill seemed like the most useful, but I couldn't afford it.
While one side of the book had the list, the other had expanded definitions of each of them listed Skills. More information and detail on the origins and workings of each fighting style available. I flipped through the book for about twenty pages before I found one that I thought might work.
[Northern Broad Strike (Un). Grade: Tin. Value: 1 Silver. A formless Martial Art that emphasizes muscle memory and combat experience. Chi enabled component available at higher grades.]
There was a bunch more information there, about what world it came from and how it was designed to combat another style called Heaven's Riches, but I had zero context and so didn't care. I opened the black box, dropped in the silver and five coppers, then shut the box. There was a ding, and when I opened it, a dark leather book with a gold image of blowing wind on it sat in the box.
Stashing it in my inventory, I nodded at the man behind the table. Pausing a second, I opened the black box again, dumped in my last few coppers, then closed it and waited. After the second ding I removed a stack of hundreds in a bank band, then said my goodbyes to the man behind the table. "Thanks, have a good one." He returned the well wishes as I turned and strode out of the place.
Getting back in my car, I headed home. I needed to learn this Skill before I hit Grant's Gym. If I'd read it right, it would let me internalize any moves I learned to act as a sort of library of perfect responses to attacks, which meant I'd need to pick up quite a few moves to make the most of it. Still, it would be worth it. The progress I'd make when we finally got into Ivy's place would blow any amount of dungeon diving out of the water.
January 5th 2016, Grant's Gym. Gotham City, New Jersey, 4:00 PM EST
After heading home and paying my rent with part of my wad of cash and stashing the rest in my inventory, I headed to the gym Jason recommended. I'd taken the time at home to use my Skillbook, and while it was a DEEPLY unpleasant experience, I was pretty pumped about having the Skill itself. Sitting in the car outside the gym, I checked my stats.
[Name: Leon Halcyon
Affiliation: The Club (Tin)
Level: 5
XP: 500/600
Class: Alchemist (Uncommon)
Statistics: Strength- 11
Endurance- 7
Agility- 9
Intelligence- 23
Wisdom- 31
Willpower- 14
HP: 70/70
MP: 230/230
Skills: Purify (Un)- Lvl 5, Reduce (C) - Lvl 8, Refine (R) - Lvl 3, Analyze (C) - Lvl 10, Northern Broad Strike (Un) - Lvl 1]
It was looking good. Granted, not much had changed, but the new Skill definitely stood out. The only downside was that it brought me up to five, and a Tin grade could only have ten Skills at a time. I didn't get new Class Skills every level or anything though, so it should be fine.
Climbing out of the car, I took a deep breath. I wished I could grind my stats up through training, but sadly only stat points could raise them. This next chunk of time was going to be rough. Seven Endurance was NOT much, not with a normal human baseline of ten. But I'd get past it. I could tough it out until my next level.
Walking up to the front of the gym, I pushed the cloudy glass door open. The peeling red letters said most of the name of the establishment, and the beat up brass bell above the door dinged loudly as I stepped inside.
The interior was…worn. All the equipment was old and well used, the punching bags were made of rough brown leather and heavily patched, and in the center of the room was a large ring, where a pair of people sparred. One of them was, I assumed, Grant. He was a big man with a strong build. Chorded muscle with some paunch over it in the middle, and he moved with a surprising amount of grace.
Opposite him was what I could only really describe as a warrior goddess. Tall, blonde, with a curvy, well muscled body and a rack like an italian suit warehouse. Her bright blue eyes were wary and placid in her perfect face, and even with a mouth guard in I could tell she had incredibly full lips.
If Grant was surprisingly grateful, the blonde was GLIDING like a fucking ghost, flowing from foot to foot without an instant of imbalance. She weaved back and forth, watching for a weakness like a cobra. Grant watched her calmly, waiting, and after a straight minute of dancing around each other, one of her hands dipped and he came at her like a fucking meteor shower.
Blondie didn't even flinch, stepping forward into the attack and weaving between the punches. The few that landed she took on her shoulders or forearms,deflecting the force, She swung one fist up toward his gut, and he dropped and elbow to block it, paying too much attention to the strike as her other fist came around and smashed against the side of his head.
Blinking quickly, he started to backpedal, and sure enough, that one little hitch in his giddyup was the beginning of the end. She blazed after him, fists blurring in a series of quick, vicious combos. He blocked them as well as he could, but the hammering punches started to take a toll.
Six combos into her rush, her shoulder dropped for an instant, and he tried to turn the tide. His hands left his guard for a split second and lashed out with a blistering one two. Blondie, weaved aside and then came up out of her duck and hammered a right cross into his jaw. He stumbled back, caught himself on the ropes, and held up a glove.
"I give." Rumbled the huge old man. "Damn but you've got a whole lot more mean in you than you used to, don't you girl?"
Blondie grinned at him. "I learned from the best, old man. Since when do you get distracted so easily anyway? I can't believe you let me land that sinker. Is this what the great Ted Grant has become? Beaten up by delicate little girls?"
"Delicate my ass." Snorted Grant. "And little…well, a gentleman doesn't comment on a lady's physical appearance."
She rolled her eyes. "Let me know if you see any gentlemen around. I'd love to meet them."
His eyes flicked to me. "Can I help you?" He said blandly. "Because we aren't really open on Sundays. Birdie here just forgot to lock up when she came in."
"Sorry." I winced. "There wasn't a list of hours on the door or anything and it was open."
He shrugged expansively, massive shoulders bobbing. "It's fine. I'll take the hit this time. I take it you're here to get some training? If you were just planning to work out I figure you'd be hitting the weights already."
"Yeah, a friend recommended you." I said evasively. "He said he'd heard good things." I glanced at the blonde, the woman he'd called Birdie. "And um, nice to meet you too, Miss. Are you one of the trainers here?" I was having trouble not staring at her chest, which was admittedly soaked with sweat that made her light grey tank top do some very interesting things.
She either didn't notice the glances or didn't care, walking over to the ropes and leaning down to pick up a water bottle. "Not really." She said casually. "But I've been known to help out if I see someone with talent. Why? Hoping for some private lessons?"
Her tone was more teasing than antagonistic. She knew I was staring and didn't give a shit, but was going to give me a hard time about it.
"Sure." I said, shrugging. "If you're available." She stopped drinking, raising an eyebrow at me.
Her lips pursed. "You just watched me mop the floor with Ted, and you're still willing to get in the ring? You're either very stupid, very horny, or very cocky."
"Could be all three." I shrugged with a wry grin. "I don't suppose I'd be in a position to tell, at least with the first and third. As for the second…I'm eighteen and you're built like a supermodel. Might as well bet the Cubs will lose the world series."
A silvery laugh rang through the room. "You're funny. I like funny. Tell you what, why don't you get up here and show me what you've got, kid."
"Leon." I corrected as I stripped off my hoody and climbed up into the ring. "Leon Halcyon." I tried not to notice Ted looking at me like I was a make-a-wish kid. I had a feeling this wasn't going to be a fun experience.
She shrugged. "Dinah." She said lazily. "Dinah Lance. I'd keep your eyes on my face if I were you Leon. I don't begrudge a little staring, but I WILL punish you for it if you do it during a fight."
Putting my hands up, I let out a deep breath. I felt…not ready, exactly. But different than before the Skill book. Nothing useful, every possible attack I envisioned my head filled up with all these moves I'd seen in movies or on TV. I couldn't DO any of them, but my Skill seemed to be handing me answers for anything I could think of.
Dinah, not caring what was going on in my head, Inched forward, and then tapped my glove with hers before backing off and waiting.
I watched her closely, surprisingly not distracted by her absolutely bangin' body or the tight leggings she was wearing the hell out of. Ok, not TOO distracted. I decided to see what I could do. I moved forward slowly, waiting for an opening, though I didn't know what one even looked like.
She watched me, eyes hooded, poised like a striking snake. Finally, I got sick of waiting and lunged forward, coming out on my left foot with an extended jab. She bobbed her head to one side, letting the blow glance off her shoulder, and then stepped in to hammer an overhand left across my face.
My vision went technicolor and I stumbled back, managing to catch myself before I fell, and putting my guard up in case she came after me.
When my eyes cleared, she was just standing there, waiting, smiling placidly. "Worth the view?" She asked sweetly. She seemed to be enjoying herself. I wasn't sure if this was sadism or she was just still pumped from her fight with ted, but it was infectious, and I found myself grinning back.
"So far." I teased. "Not sure how many of those I can take before my answer changes."
I stepped toward her again, throwing the same lunging punch. She pulled the same deflection, but instead of taking the punch, I dove forward under it, slamming my shoulder into her core, bringing my body weight to bare against her.
She didn't even move, at least not until her fist smashed into the middle of my back and I fell to my knees, wheezing as the wind was knocked out of me.
"Naughty boy." She almost purred. "Grappling in a boxing match. How unsportsmanlike." She turned to Ted. "I like him. I'm keeping this one." She didn't even bother to look my way as I tried for a sucker punch. She stepped nimbly out of the way of my staggering lunge and caught me across the jaw, rattling my brain against my skull and sending me thudding to the ground.
I did NOT pass out, probably because of my Willpower, but I did go crosseyed as her silvery laughter rang through the room again. "He's so precious. None of the kids I teach have half that much gumption." She walked over, nudging me with a toe. "Not an ounce of quit in this one. It's adorable."
Admittedly, precious and adorable were NOT the adjectives I was hoping to elicit from the busty valkyrie currently standing with her foot planted on my side, but I supposed I could do worse.
She leaned down in my face, blonde hair tickling my nose as I inhaled the scent of lavender and sugar cookies. "You're mine now, puppy. Hope you're ready for a rough time, because I'm going to beat your ass into shape or break you in two in the attempt." She winked at me. "Bad luck for you, this is where I let out all my aggression from my day job. Quit now if you don't have the guts."
I just grunted, rolling to my side and coming up to my hands and knees before staggering up to my feet. I had bad qualities, tons of them. But I never backed down from a challenge. Be it an alchemy recipe I had to repeat a hundred times, or spending months fruitlessly searching the dump. She was right about one thing. I had no quit in me.
I spat a glob of blood from where my teeth had mashed against my inner lip and glared at her, raising my gloves. "What are you lazing around for?" I snapped. "I didn't hear no bell." Her eyes lit up with pure delight as she retook her stance. I tried to stay focused on her, though it was tough, both because of my possible concussion and the message that had showed up in my vision after she dropped me with that jaw shot.
[Northern Broad Strike (Un) level up! Northern Broad Strike (Un)- Lvl 1 Lvl 2]
As I prepared myself for yet another painful and oddly arousing ass kicking, I felt my footing grow just a little surer, my perception of her movements just a little better. My Endurance was shit, but my Intelligence was through the roof. I could do this. I was still psyching myself up on my next rush when she caught me at the wrong angle and my vision went black. Damn it.
January 5th 2016, Grant's Gym. Gotham City, New Jersey, 8:00 PM EST
I woke to a splash of cold water. "Rise and shine." Came the melodic voice from the depths of my nightmares. I groaned, rolling over onto my side and nursing my pounding, and now very wet head. A pair of soft but surprisingly strong hands pulled me up, sitting me against the post at the corner of the ring. "Eyes up kid, look at me." I blinked awake, wincing at the flash of bright light in my retinas.
"Ouch." I winced, flinching back. "What the actual fuck? Don't do that."
A silvery laugh scraped at my brain. "Sorry puppy, gotta check to see if you've got a concussion. Can't have my new favorite pet going into a coma on me." Wincing, I checked what condition I was in. I had a few different messages waiting that might fill me in on how I was doing.
[HP: 35/70. Status Conditions: Staggered, Concussed, Battered.]
I blinked. I'd lost health. That was disturbing. Unlike in a video game, hitting zero health wouldn't kill me if I had nonlethal damage, but it would leave me in a near death state for twenty four hours where I could barely move. I'd never had it happen before, but Jason had, and he'd warned me never to get put in that position. On the bright side, those weren't the only messages I'd gotten.
[Northern Broad Strike (Un) level up! Northern Broad Strike (Un)- Lvl 2 Lvl 7]
I'd gotten five levels in my martial art in the last four hours alone. Of course, it hadn't saved me, but still, it was damn good progress. Weirdly, Dinah seemed to have some kind of natural understanding of what would genuinely hurt me. Most of her hits didn't take any HP and the ones that did only took a few. She'd just hit me a LOT. I couldn't stop her at all.
The frustrating part was that because of the Skill levels, I KNEW I was getting better, I could feel it, but somehow it made no difference. I just kept getting put down in the worst possible ways, no matter how hard I tried.
A bare foot poked me in the ribs. "Scoot." Said Dinah, and I did, shifting my back to the ropes so she could plop down next to me. She held out her water bottle. "Want some?" She asked lazily. I took it, gulping down a few pulls before she snatched it away. "Slow and steady, puppy, or you'll puke."
"What's with the puppy thing?" I finally asked, my head clearing enough to talk. "Is it some kind of insult?"
She chuckled. "My day job is stressful. I'm guessing you don't recognize me, which is nice. You're probably kind of an introvert. But I spend all day helping people. Then I'm expected to fix everyone's problems. I'm the one everybody talks to when they're feeling overwhelmed. But I don't have anyone like that.
"Now don't get me wrong." She continued. "I have a boyfriend, and he's a sweet guy, if a little obnoxious. But this place is the only time I get to just…be me. I don't need to be the smiling den mother who listens to problems. I can be a belligerent bitch who breaks noses and laughs at the blood. I don't want to give that up, but you amuse me enough to teach."
I waved my hand to tell her to hurry up. "So what does that have to do with the nickname?"
"Because I don't want another lost kid to mother." She said bluntly. "Or a protege, God forbid. But I like you enough so far to give training you a shot." She winked at me. "And I've always wanted a puppy."
I snorted out a laugh at that. "I think this is the least excited I can imagine being about a beautiful woman wanting to put me on a leash."
"Oh sweetie." She cooed. "I am FAR too much car for you. But be a good boy and maybe I'll introduce you to some pretty girls you can spar with. To my complete and utter surprise, you're NOT going to be a project I have to work on for years. You learn fast."
Blinking in shock, I gestured to my battered body. "I…what? You crushed me. Repeatedly. I didn't learn anything."
"I'd smack you in the back of the head if I wasn't worried about brain damage." She sniped. "I'm one of the best fighters you're ever going to meet, kid. Me beating you isn't a metric for progress. Comparing us is like trying to win a foot race with a Ferrari. You can beat your best speed ten times over, but you're still not going to catch up."
That made some sense. "You gonna be here tomorrow?" I asked cautiously.
"Probably not." She chuckled. "But come anyway. Ted can spar with you. You're a quick enough study that I look forward to seeing your progress next time I'm in. My schedule is a bit…irregular. But I'll check in with the old man. See how you're doing." She reached over and pinched my cheek. "Gotta look after my ferocious little puppy."
Smacking her hand away sulkily, I sneered as she stood up and stretched, stopping to enjoy the very pleasant sight despite the bodily agony. She smirked down at me. "Are you drooling again?" She said with an arched eyebrow. When I didn't respond, she just shrugged. "Well fine, you were a good boy today. I'll be nice and let you watch me walk away. Enjoy."
I did enjoy. That woman had an ass like jello wrapped concrete, high and tight with just the right amount of jiggle. It almost made the beating worth it on its own. Almost.
"Poor bastard." Snickered Ted from behind me. I groaned, turning my aching head to look at him. He handed me a wet towel and a water bottle. "You noggin doin' ok kid? She rung your bell but good."
"I'll be fine." I said slowly. "Just need some time to recombobulate. She was…enthusiastic."
He shook his head in amazement. "I don't know if you're lucky or the most unfortunate son of a bitch I've ever met. I've known her since she was…well, probably your age. I trained her. And I haven't seen her like that in a long damned time."
"She's not usually that…sadistic?" I asked with a laugh. "I thought the whole soft and cuddly day job thing was an excuse."
Laughing , he shook his head again. "Hell no. That was a version of Dinah I ain't seen in years, at least outside the ring with me. The version that used to do underground cage fights and cackle as she smashed a man's face in. Truth be told I kind of missed it. She's more fun like that."
"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." I drawled. My head was starting to unfuck itself. I checked the clock above the ring and blinked. Huh, it had been almost thirty minutes. At point seven health regenerated per minute, that meant fourteen health every twenty minutes. Sure enough, I was back up over fifty.
Ted looked me over with amusement. "You're a tough little bastard, aren't you?"
"Nah." I said with a laugh. "Just stubborn. Sorry about taking up space in your gym. With Dinah gone I'm sure you want to close up."
He waved me off. "Nah. Take your time. I'm done for the night anyway. Was thinkin' of heading down to Maroni's for dinner." He looked over my battered clothes. "I could use some company if you're up for it."
His gaze was pitying. He was obviously assuming I was homeless or starving. I was five feet and ten inches of pale, thin, gothy looking motherfucker, so it was a reasonable assumption. Some people might be too proud to take free food. Those people were dumbasses. Food was food, and the kind I didn't pay for was the best kind of all.
Taking his hand, I let him pull me up, and then limped over to grab my hoodie. When I had it, he took me outside and locked up. "You can leave your car here, gotta come back anyw-" He froze. "Jesus Christ, kid, is that your CAR?"
"Yes." I snapped. That I was actually a bit offended about. "Don't talk shit about Lorenzo. He's gotten me through a lot of tough times." I patted the hood of my junker and winced as the frame groaned ominously.
He snorted. "Fair enough. Loyalty is a good quality to have. Come on, we'll take my wheels, like I was saying. I'll bring you back for…" He grimaced at my mobile disaster. "Lorenzo."
We got to Maroni's not too long after leaving the Gym. There was never much traffic in Gotham at night. Nobody sane drove around town in the dark, and they definitely didn't park. Ted seemed oblivious to that fact. I kind of wished my Analyze worked on people, I'd be curious to see what his deal was…and then I realized I was being stupid. I could just ask.
"So what's your story?" I asked as they seated us. "Lot of weird at that Gym. You, Dinah."
He eyed me suspiciously for a second, then barked out a laugh. "Hell kid, you really don't know who she is. Don't you watch the news?"
"Not really." I shrugged. "Houses on fire, muggings in alleys, Joker being nuts. Same old same old. Why, is she famous or something? She mentioned helping people. Maybe she's a doctor? Working at Arkham or something?"
That got a snort. "Not as far off as you'd think." He admitted. "She IS a shrink, at least part time. She's ALSO a cape. Black Canary, more specifically." I noticed he didn't mention himself, but if he'd trained Black Canary he probably was too. I didn't bother commenting, still stuck on the fact that Black Canary had been kicking my ass for the last five hours.
A waitress came to get our orders. I got the alfredo, Ted got the lasagna. As we ate, he stared at me curiously. "You know, you never said who referred you."
"Nope." I said between bites. "And you never mentioned how you know Dinah."
He paused at that, then chuckled. "Touche, kid. Touche. So you never told her if you were coming back tomorrow. You got a job or school or anything? We're open six to eight on weekdays. Noon to eight on Saturday."
"I'm between jobs." I admitted. "Been… flipping stuff from pawn shops for cash. I'm good on money for a while, so I'll have plenty of time to come in and train." He nodded, finishing his food and leaving me to eat mine.
One we were done, as he promised, he drove me back to my car, and I managed to make it to the gas station before heading home. When I arrived I locked my door and carried my purchases to the table. Reaching into my inventory, I let a dozen six packs of red bulls and ten tubs of muscle recovery powder drop onto my coffee table.
This training stuff was great for my Skill level in combat, but I was having a hard time keeping up. Luckily, I had some spare cash after rent, and I was a fucking alchemist. I might not be able to do health potions or anything yet, but I definitely had options.
As I poured the red bull into a punch bowl and dissolved the recovery powder into it, I grinned to myself. Physically I was exhausted, but I still had my mental faculties, and I would be able to mix up something good. If I was lucky I might even get enough XP to level. I was going to make a bunch of these recovery potions. Some more Endurance would make things so much easier. That was a worry for later though. For now, let the potion making begin.
January 5th 2016, Grant's Gym. Gotham City, New Jersey, 9:00 AM EST
As expected, I was back at the Gym the next day at eight AM. They opened at six, but considering how late I'd been up brewing, I had no real desire to drag myself out of bed at the ass-crack of dawn. Eight hours of beating was more than enough. A sentiment Ted seemed to agree with well enough, because he was ringing my bell good.
I groaned, sitting up and trying to ignore my ringing skull as I staggered to my feet. "How do you hit so much HARDER than she does?" I groaned. "Her punches were already the nearest thing to getting hit by a bus. Yours are like a train."
"Well." he chuckled. "I am a foot taller and made of pure muscle. I might be old and slow, but I still hit like a wrecking ball. And you suck too badly for the old thing to matter much."
Laughing to myself, I checked my stats. At an hour in, I wanted to see how much HP I had, and how much my level up from potion crafting the night before had actually helped me. I'd distributed my stats mainly to Endurance to see how much difference it would make.
[Name: Leon Halcyon
Affiliation: The Club (Tin)
Level: 6
XP: 0/700
Class: Alchemist (Uncommon)
Statistics: Strength- 11
Endurance- 10
Agility- 10
Intelligence- 23
Wisdom- 31
Willpower- 15
HP: 95/100
MP: 230/230
Skills: Purify (Un)- Lvl 6, Reduce (C) - Lvl 9, Refine (R) - Lvl 5, Analyze (C) - Lvl 10, Northern Broad Strike (Un) - Lvl 7]
I'd put three points into Endurance, bringing me up to a hundred health, one HP regen per minute, and just generally toughening up my body. The extra point of agility made me more likely to pull off the moves my Northern Broad Strike was stockpiling, and the extra Willpower…well, that seemed to come in handy for lots of stuff.
The crafting session had ended up bottling out to ten drafts, so I got five XP apiece, barely hitting the next level. The effort had netted me a level in Purify, one in Reduce, and three in Refine. The final product had been exactly what I needed.
[Object found: Recovery Draft. Grade: Tin. Quality: Common. A potion that doubles hit point recovery for one hour at the Tin grade, as well as flooding the body with energy. Value: 1 Copper.]
Common. I'd never reliably made a Common quality potion before. My few Common rarity brews (and that Uncommon) had all been the result of getting lucky finding good materials. And five coppers a piece. I wanted to sell them, honestly, but I needed them too badly for training. Of course, doubling my recovery just made it two per minute instead of one, but that energy boost made the training so much easier to get through.
Not to mention my body had gotten…not denser, exactly, but tougher. Less give to my flesh, my durable bones. Endurance of ten should have been human average, and maybe it was, but if so my previous endurance had been leagues worse than a normal person.
Being up to a hundred HP on top of the durability and energy boost…I felt like I could go ten rounds with a grizzly bear.
Which was pretty close to what I'd been doing. Ted had been kicking my ass for the last hour, even with the recovery potion, and I hadn't even gotten a Skill level. And now the recovery potion was wearing off, so it was going to be even worse.
Seeing my slump of exhaustion as the second wind left me, Ted grinned. "Go get some water, kid. We'll take five before we get back into it. This is going to be an all day sparring session to get a decent bede on your abilities before we go further, so we treat it like a marathon, not a sprint."
Nodding, I stumbled over to the bottle I'd left ring side, and took a long pull as I glanced around the Gym. There were quite a few people here now, mostly huge buff guys or dangerous looking women. I tried not to make eye contact, I was focused on my training.
As I drained the bottle (slowly so I didn't puke) I considered taking another potion, but decided if I used them as a crutch I would never get used to the effort myself. I would take them in the last hour of the day, to recover from all the effort and put some pep in my step. Happy with my decision, I prepared to get back to my workout when a soft sound split the air.
Grimacing, I grabbed the battered gym bag I kept my clothes in (inventory was noticeable unless you had a container on you) and dug through it until I found a beat up old flip phone. Checking the number, I sighed as I opened it. "Yeah." I said shortly.
"Is that how you answer a phone?" Asked an exasperated female voice. "Honestly, little brother, you'd think you left all your manners in your room when you moved out."
I rolled my eyes. "Hi Lindy. I'm kind of busy, if you called to bitch at me, maybe we can set up a time to do this later. I'm free for six o'clock on tuesday of never, you got anything going on then?" I asked blandly.
"Fine, sorry, Mr. Sensitive." She said hurriedly. "I was just concerned." There was a long pause. "Speaking of concern-"
I cut her off. "I will hang up on you." I said stonily. "Don't think I won't."
"Come on Leon." She pleaded. "Mom didn't mean it. She just wanted you to focus on medicine like we always planned. Just agree to take some pre-med classes and you can come home. She misses you. We all do."
"No." I said in a flat tone. "She misses having control over me. It drives her nuts I decided to stop listening, and she wants you to guilt me into coming back."
I could literally HEAR her stamp her foot in anger. "It's not like that! She wants what's best for you. For all of us. Dad's been trying to talk to her about it, but she won't budge. Why are both of you so damned stubborn?"
The question made me chuckle, because I did get my stubbornness from my mother. Alice Halcyon was one of the most determined people I'd ever met, and so much of who I was came from her. I knew she loved me, loved us all, but she'd been a lot happier when that vaunted stubbornness was aimed at outsiders instead of her.
When I'd gotten into the Club, I officially decided to take my own path in life. I'd never been AGAINST the idea of being a doctor, I'd just been kind of ambivalent, and while I was stubborn, I didn't make a habit of picking fights for no reason. A doctor was as good as anything.
But once I had other options, I'd decided I wasn't going to waste the time on medical school, and my mother had NOT been happy. It had been a huge drawn out fight, but eventually she gave me an ultimatum. Go to medical school or I was cut off. I think she expected me to cave, since I'd never lived on my own, but I just walked out and hadn't spoken to any of them since.
"Tell mom and dad I said hi, Lindy." I told my sister with a sigh. "I love you, and I'll see you around."
Her brief silence broke my heart, and I was able to hear. "No, Leon, wait-" Before I snapped the phone closed. I tucked it back into the bag after switching it to silent, ignoring the new incoming call from the same number.
"Helluva thing." Said a gravelly voice from behind me. I turned to see Ted giving me a sympathetic wince. "Not being able to talk to the people who matter most."
I shrugged. "It was my choice. Sure, she pushed me, but I could have caved. I just refuse to let her run my life. If I had no direction it would be fine, but I have plans of my own, and they don't fit into her worldview." I laughed bitterly. "Moms, am I right?"
"Couldn't very well comment on that." Ted said with a sad smile. "Mine's been dead for near on twenty years now. But I know a thing or two about stubborn pride. I don't know you well enough to speak to whether yours is misplaced kid, but if I were you, I'd keep an eye on the consequences of it. Easy to let your pride take over and drive. Sometimes you won't like where you end up."
Sighing, I paused as I was rearranging my bag, stopping at a picture of me with a smiling older blonde girl and a pair of twins my own age. I flipped it over. "Leon, Kate, Bette and Lizzy, 2007". My chest tightened as I looked at the picture, before shoving it back into a pile of clothes. "Well, I think that's a long enough break."
He just chuckled, getting back into the center of the ring. "You know kid. I think I see what Birdie was talking about. You may not be worth a damn in a fight, but you do NOT stay down. Not to mention I swear you seem a little more filled out today."
I just smiled, not saying anything. The extra endurance put me in normal physical condition, which had somewhat lessened the skinny paleness of my lanky form. "You ready?"
"Whenever you are." He said lazily. I put in my mouth guard. He didn't wear one against me, but after Dinah popped me one yesterday and I was spitting blood I definitely did. Then I tapped my glove against his and backed off.
Unlike Dinah, Ted didn't wait for me to come to him. He came at me like a battering ram, fists blurring. He wasn't going full speed, but it was more than enough for me to be pushed to my limits. I turtled up, wincing at the punches smashing into my raised arms but weathering the assault, waiting for an opening I could try to exploit.
I'd yet to actually FIND one, even if I had been close a few times. Suddenly, I spotted a dip in his guard. Of course, it wasn't real, he'd used that same feint on me two rounds ago. But I'd seen it before. I went in after the opening, same way I had last time, and with a pinpoint display of perfect timing, managed to stop midway into my lunge and let the retaliatory strike whistle right past my nose.
Ted's eyes widened as I took advantage of the actual opening and hammered a punch into his ribs…to no effect. A right cross and I was back on the mat, groaning in pain, but Ted was giving me a respectful look.
"Not bad, kid." He complimented. "Not GOOD either. But not bad. You managed to scratch me at least."
I sighed as he helped me up. "Wish I had a bit more muscle behind those punches. I'll work on that." I was pretty sure normal training wouldn't work for me anymore, a side effect of my HP taking all my damage for me, but my next level could go partly toward strength.
We set back up, ready to go another round, but before we started, I glanced at my bag again. I hadn't realized that picture was in that particular bag. It was the one I used to use when I went to exercise (watch TV and eat snacks while she worked out) with my best friend as a kid.
It had been a long time since I'd seen any of the people in that picture. Though to be fair one of them was dead now. As I dropped to the mat again, I made a decision. I might not be speaking to my family, but that didn't mean I had to be alone. Later tonight I'd stop in for a visit to an old friend. I just hoped she was willing to see me.
AN:/ As usual pat-reon has the advance chapters at that site /malcolmtent hope everyone enjoys.