Phase 1: Induction

[Silvertongued]

The first thing I became aware of was the pulsing in my head, a headache that lurked behind my eyes, throbbing in time with my pulse. The room was dark and humid, thrumming alongside the pain in my head.


Groggily, I pushed myself up. Pens fell from where they had stuck on my face, rolling off the table and clattering against the floor. I rubbed my eyes, suppressing a grunt as knuckles made contact with puffy flesh. Had I been crying? Last night was a strange, distorted fog, and I had trouble remembering the details. It wasn't until I saw the tank that everything rushed back with perfect clarity.


My sisters illness, the months of chemo, the nights spent holding hands and praying, the hoping, the wishing, watching her grow weaker and smaller with every passing day. The memories hit me all at once, and I staggered at my feet, flouncing back into my seat. It had all come to a head last night. Ashley's body had finally given out, and with it, my family. Dad fighting with Mom again, Emily making things worse between them, my brother screaming at the three of them. It was all too much. I... left.


And I... I had snapped in a different way.


Even now, the patterns made themselves known to my waking mind, showing me how to put things together to make... something more. And I now found myself in my basement, staring at the various humming components, the bloody test tubes, the mess of papers, and most of all, the massive plastic vat in which a small clump of flesh was growing.


OPTIONS:

• Go through the papers. Maybe some of them hold some clue as towhat the hell I did last night, jog my memory more completely.
  
• Go upstairs, see what time it is, see if anyone else knows about what happened last night.
  
• Shut down the machine. Anything I did in that state of mind, it couldn't have been good.
  
• Write in~
  

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

Oh god. Oh god. What did I do? I'd better... I'd better turn it off. Kill it.


I stumbled over cables to get to the heart of the machine. Now where's the off button?


The killswitch is located on the lower right side of the tank support system, just in case. The knowledge came unbidden to my mind. A killswitch just in case of what?


I had to press myself against the tank in order to reach around to where memory told me I would find the button. The warmth it emitted was eerily soothing, and I found myself staring through the murky plastic and rolling bubbles to gaze at the growth within.


My fingers found the switch, hovered over it, but...


They hesitated. I hesitated.


I mean.... I wouldn't just make a monster or something for the hell of it, would I? It would be far more likely that...


A lump formed in my throat, hard and hot, pushing harder with the unspoken thought. Despite the hours of crying the last few days, I found my eyes still possessed the ability to water threateningly.


...no. No, I'd find out for sure, what I'd done before I flipped the switch. If I flipped the switch.


Gently extracting myself from the mess of tangles around the vat, I made my way back to the table. Piles of graph paper were strewn across it, all liberally smeared with numbers, diagrams, and writing.


I picked up the nearest to trace over not words, but strange numerical symbols. For a split second, I was worried that it was nothing but gibberish, but then it clicked. It made sense, a pattern that brought pictures to the forefront of my mind. It was a fragment of human genome, condensed in a particular shorthand. My shorthand.


I don't know how I knew that. My experience with genetics was limited to high school science classes of a year or two ago, and even then, nothing would have been able to prepare me for the bulk of information that I could easily see that was on this page alone.


What was more, is that I knew it was a fragment that wasn't working correctly. It caused certain cells to endlessly divide, far past the point of where they should stop. The offending sequences were neatly parsed, and as I shuffled through the sheafs of paper, I saw that that another, almost identical sequence, was being spliced in.


...I took another glance at the vat, and the suspicion couldn't be denied any further.


That was my sister, Ashley.


Or rather, that was her clone, the cancer causing code in her genes replaced by a sample of my own healthy ones, inserted invitro.


A sudden knock at the basement door wrenched me from my thoughts, a shrill yelp tearing itself from my lips.


"Maria?" came a voice. It was my mother.


"Maria, are you in there?" Her voice was cracked and wavering, a tone that set that lump in my throat on edge.


OPTIONS:

1. Throw a tarp over the machine, and try to deal with the situation.
   
2. Go upstairs, try to fob her off.
   
3. Tell her the truth.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

I take a quick look at the machine, then back up at the basement door.


Mom can't know. Not now. Not right after Ashley...


I take one last glance at the vat and head upstairs.


Mom is standing outside the door, looking dead on her feet. Her eyes are red, with deep bags underneath. She doesn't look like she's slept at all.


"Are you okay Abeja?" she hazards a smile. It's sad, and I have no idea how she's manages after all this, but I can't help but smile in response.


"....yeah," I manage softly.


"You left... right after..."


She lets the words hang.


"...yeah," I repeated. "...sorry,"


"No, it's... it's okay. Some people need time alone to... to grieve," her smile becomes that much sadder. "Your papa, he throws himself into work, like me. Your brother..."


Mom looks away.


"Well, he's like your abeulo. He gets angry..." She trails off.


OPTIONS:

1. Comfort her.
   
2. Make an excuse and leave.
   
3. Ask about the others.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

"He'll be okay Mom," I tell her, wrapping my arms around her. "We all will,"


She pulls me closer, tighter, her body tense underneath me. Her breath hitches several times, until she finally sighes deeply into my chest. I stood there, holding her, for several minutes, the two of using fighting off tears.


"You should probably go to bed Mom," I say softly.


She nods silently, wiping her face.


"I made all the arrangments for your school and work, Abeja," she explains quietly. "You don't need to go into either for a few days,"


With that, she pads into her room, the door closing with a dull click.


I have to wipe my own face as she leaves, my cheeks flushed, my eyes burning.


Mom couldn't know. Not about what I'd done. Not now. She's barely managing with things as they are.


What had I done? And how had I done it? Was there something wrong with me?


I run my hands through my hair, pulling at the tips. Better yet, what do I do about it?


OPTIONS:

1. Go back downstairs and clean up.
   
2. Look up your symptoms online.
   
3. Call your best friend.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

No. No freaking out. I have to be top of things right now. And the very top of things is... Ashley.


After a deep breath, I head back downstairs, trying to keep my breathing level, despite the churning in my stomach.


The basement. My room. Even at the best of times, it's more than a little untidy. Now, it looks like a cross between a bombsite and the lab of a mad scientist... which I guess it is. The vat and the surrounding equipment is tucked away into a corner, but the mess of cables, tubes, tanks, and humming machinery means that ostentatious is an understatement.


Shutting the door behind me, I makes sure the lock is closed. If Mom tried the door, she'd have questions for me later, but those questions would be easier than the ones that would arise if she saw the tank.


It took a little under an hour to clean the room. By the time I was finished, the light streaming in the basement windows started showing the full light of a december morning. A tarp rested over the vat, rigged up so it was easy to draw over or off. What was better was that I was able to go over the majority of the notes.


With each page I glossed over, they sparked my memories, and the night before became clearer. The now foetus shaped creature in the vat was definitely my sister. Judging by the speed at which it was growing, I could tell it'd be a full two weeks before maturation. I didn't know how I knew that, but then again I didn't know how I knew how to create a working cloning device, and right now I was too tired to question either of them.


The more immediate question is that judging by the growth rate, I needed hell of a lot more food to keep this thing going. The current batch had only managed to progress to this point, and by the looks of the empty packages I had to throw out, that was most of the food in the house.


So now I had three problems. One, the tank was nearly empty. Two, my mother was going to question where all the food was. Three, I had nowhere near enough cash to just to restock the house, let alone keep this thing stocked up for the full two weeks.


I am so tired.


OPTIONS:

1. Go to work anyway, try and scrimp the money.
   
2. Plan to steal the materials or the money.
   
3. Try and put the project into hibernation, or kill it.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

Maybe...


Maybe if I...


I looked at the tank, pursing my lips as I thought.


How many people would pay for their own clone? I mean, now that I had looked over the notes, I knew exactly what I had done last night, and how I had done it, so replicating the project wouldn't be hard. Hell, I could even edit things genetic code invitro so long as I had the sample. Can't tell me that somebody wouldn't pay top dollar for that.


...the only question is who these somebodies would be, and how I'd get in contact with them. It's not like there was a swap meet for mad scientists, or a bulletin board for ethically grey services.


The sheer exhaustion of both the situation, being put through the emotional wringer, and my lack of sleep was starting to get to me. I'd have to do research or something.


OPTIONS:

1. Go on the internet, search around for... something?
   
2. Go out, try to ask someone seedy for a place to "sell things".
   
3. Sleep.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

Scouring the internet seemed like the best idea for research ethically grey market places I decided. Lying down on my bed, battered laptop laying on my stomach, I logged into our neighbours wifi. The coverage was spotty at best, and the bandwidth was terrible, but even though it was a frustrating slog, it was better than nothing.


A couple cursory searches brought up something called "Toybox" which seemed to be a parahuman based Black Market. Wasn't much information on how to get into contact with them though, or even where they were based. Still, they'd be worth keeping in mind.


Searching more local keywords brought up several gangs, such as Dark Star, El Más Grande, and the Circus.


Expressly using the term "legal" in my searches brought up the Wards, weirdly enough. Them, and a local rogue parahuman called Thomas Donaldson. Seemed to be a guy who had some weird intellect for organic chemistry, and used it to run a classy restaurant downtown. Maybe I could... Maybe I could...


.....*


By the time I woke up, the light from outside had dimmed to late evening. A few blissful moments of ignorance enveloped me as my eyes flickered open, an illusion that was quickly torn away when I heard the tank gurling away. The reality of my current situation hit me, and I had to resist the urge to try and sleep it away.


Now that I had slept, with my mind clear, I couldn't deny what had happened.The evidence was pretty clear. I had somehow developed a superhuman intellect geared towards... genetics? Something medicine related like that. That meant I was a parahuman. A cape.


And the very first thing I did with that was clone my dead sister.


Further sleep wouldn't come.


OPTIONS:

1. Look up Toybox.
   
2. Research the local gangs.
   
3. Check out the Wards.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

I pulled up the laptop again, and began trawling back through my options. Anything to stave off the restlessness in my stomach.


I decided to check out the Wards first. Their information was neatly compiled and easy to read, unlike trying to find out about the other places. Even had a contact number and anonymous helpline for newly triggered capes.


Actually, there was a good deal of benefits for joining the Wards. A fifty grand trust per year, as well as a base minimum wage salary. Access to workshops and materials was another bonus. To top it all off, Youth Guard Charity would have my back.


That said, I would be expected to essentially be a junior member of the Protectorate. That meant fighting crime, having a costumed alter ego, and being aware of my public image, as well as weekly patrols. Not to mention the accountability I had to face for my creations. Lotta responsibilities to go with those goods.


I couldn't help but chew my lip as I read through some of the legal jargon. It was all very good and all, but it was one hell of a commitment. I'd essentially be agreeing to be a superhero for the rest of my teens, if not my life. There'd also be the issue of how they'd react to Ashley.


OPTIONS:

1. Look up Toybox.
   
2. Research the local gangs.
   
3. Contact the Wards.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

Hmm. Maybe I should check out my other options first before attempting to commit to something like the Wards.


I moved onto Toybox next. Their information was a little bit more difficult to track down, and without a central website to look for information, I was left to trawl through various parahuman message boards. From what I could glean, Toybox was a parahuman black market, maintained and run by tinkers. They didn't operate out of any singular location, offered expensive services discretely, and had a policy of impartial non-intervention.


They usually sold to anyone who had the money, but seemed to draw the line at producing or selling items of mass destruction, or anything of that ilk which would attract PRT or Protectorate attention. Granted, operating illegal technology rackets and on the grey side of ethics still had some of the PRT and Protectorate hunting them down, but not as any actual threat worth mobilizing against.


On the bright side, they would welcome any Tinkers into their ranks, give them resources, and help them get on their feet to make a name for themselves, all for a cut of whatever sales they made while in Toybox.


Contacting them diretly seemed to be somewhat difficult, but several posters claimed to know several web addresses that Toybox apparently used, and could be contacted at for this exact purpose.


OPTIONS:

1. Contact Toybox.
   
2. Research the local gangs.
   
3. Contact the Wards.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

Toybox did seem like the way to go, but considering I was now going to be entering the world of capes, I figured that I might as well find out about the local scene, if only to make sure I didn't get caught with my pants down. In terms of the local gangs, the three big contenders were Dark Star, El Más Grande, and the Circus.


Dark Star were a trio of supervillains, Black Hole Sun, Punch, and Wallrunner. They mostly were wanted for several cases of grand theft, and the local Wards considered them a nuisance more than anything else. Word on through the various parahuman boards is that they were looking for... well, anyone who could really bolster their ranks really. Apparently it paid well, but the contact details were sketchy.


El Más Grande were far larger and more low key, run by a cape called Big Time. They were responsible for protection rackets, drug running, prostitution rings, petty robbery, murder, that sort of thing. People like that were always looking for any way to expand their profit margin, and in truth, their lower levels operated right in the local neighbourhood. Wouldn't be that hard to contact.


The Circus... I didn't know much about them, and truthfully, I didn't really want to know more. What I did know was that they were a collection of parahuman nutjobs and sociopaths held together by someone called Monsieur Loyal. The group was wanted for multiple cases of kidnapping, murder, and arson. I couldn't find any contact information about them, but then again, I didn't look very hard.


As for the local heroes, there was the Wards and the Protectorate. Wards had Gelatine, Saturn, Binder, and a couple of others I couldn't remember off the top of my head. The Protectorate had Archetype, Idol, Vanish, and Himalaya. Apparently the two groups were in the midst of a transfer with some other cities, so there were a couple others I didn't know about.


Content that I had investigted the other major players in the local scene, I started to try and contact Toybox. At first, I tried to find some website directly linking to them, with the instructions from half a dozen authentic sounding parahuman forum posts, saying things about the "dark web". After muddling around with that for over an hour, I wasn't really any closer to finding a direct website. Everything looked either too sketchy, too skeevy, or too untrustworthy.


That said, I did find a particular email address repeated several times across a lot of the places. It was mostly keysmash jargon with an "@" symbol in the middle of it, but it was the only consistent piece of contact information I had managed to find.


It was finally starting to get dark outside when I wrote it down alongside the contact email for the Wards, my stomach beginning to growl for attention. Still, I couldn't help staring at the two pieces of information on my notepad.


OPTIONS:

1. Contact Toybox.
   
2. Contact the Wards.
   
3. Go get dinner.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.


@Grey @The Fuzz @PixelWitch @Jaye @Anomaly

 

[Silvertongued]

Try as I might, I found that I couldn't really decide between the two options. So I decided to hedge my bets, and go for both of them.


It didn't take too long to create a pair of throwaway accounts, or to craft a message for each asking how to garner membership status, claiming to be inquiring for "a friend", and for a reply A.S.A.P.


My fingers hovered over the trackpad, hesitating before hitting the send button for both of them.


It was about this point that there was another knock at my door. My heart shot up into my throat in a spur of paranoia.


Did they track me? Was there a power that would have let either of them do that? Could they have done it that quickly?


"Maria?"


It was my mother, concern and confusion in her voice.


Relief was momentary as I realised why she'd be knocking on my door. She'd found the lack of food.


OPTIONS:

1. Go upstairs, tell her the truth.
   
2. Go upstairs, lie.
   
3. Call upstairs, feign ignorance.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

I can't hide something like this from Mom. That said, Ashley...


I steal quick a glance at the burbling tank as I pushed myself off the bed. Ashley would remain my little secret.


It takes only a moment to climb the stairs and open the door. Mom is waiting there, face creased with confusion. Before she can even open her mouth, I've already started explaining.


"I know about the food Mom. I was the one who used it all," I start, putting a hand on her shoulder.


The confusion on her face deepens.


"Abeja?"


"I know it's been a long hard... time, with Ashley, and you and Dad, and with Ricard, but I have to tell you something. Something important,"


Puzzlement instantly shifts to worry.


"Abeja, are you okay?" she hazards tremulously, and I feel my own breath hitch in my throat. It takes a heavy swallow to force it back down. It'll be okay. She'll understand.


"I'm... I'm fine Mom, but... I'm different. Something happened to me last night, after Ashley... died, and it made me different."


"I-... I don't understand, what happened? What do you mean "different"?"


"I..." I struggled to find the proper words, to explain something that even I didn't fully understand. "I'm smarter about particular stuff than any normal person should be. I built a thing, an... experiment, and that's where I used all the food. As fuel for it,"


"...what?"


"I'm a parahuman Mom. A cape. Like... Dragon, I guess, or Armsmaster, or Archetype. I know how to make things."


Her eyes widen, deep brown wells brimming with shock.


"I- I... you are a superhero?" she manages to say eventually.


I manage something of a smile.


"Sort of. I've been looking up the Wards-"


She hugs me, closely, tightly, hard enough that I feel that she's trying to hold me here.


"No, no! It is too dangerous! All the time I see in the news, I see these heroes in so much danger. I do not want you to get hurt! To lose you like your sister! You are my Abeja, my little bumble bee! I cannot survive losing two children... No..."


I return her embrace, running my hand over the thick brown curls of her hair.


"I've only been looking at them Mom. They pay a lot. A fifty grand trust a year, along with a basic wage. Plus, they'd help me with my powers, and give me the resources, the teaching that I'll probably need. With all that, we could keep the house. We could afford college for both me and Ricard. You could even stop working so hard. And all this, is because I'd be helping people,"


There's no reply. Mom just squeezes me tightly.


"I will think about it. Sleep on it, maybe even discuss it with your papa. But I will not promise anything Maria,"


She lets go, rubbing her eyes and sighing. "And first, I will also have to go shopping for dinner..."


OPTIONS:

1. Go out and do the shopping for her.
   
2. Order in.
   
3. Tell her not to tell Dad.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

"I'll do the shopping," I offer suddenly. "Like I said, things have been hard on you, and I want to do what I can to help you out,"


Mom smiles at me warmly.


"Do you know what you are getting?" she asks softly.


"Enough for dinner," is my response.


Her smile falters.


"Just enough for the two of us Abeja,"


The words are barely whispered, pulling at the fresh pain of last night. Again, I swallow down the lump in my throat.


"Just enough for you and me," I answer hoarsely. I couldn't hug her. If I hugged her, I'd just break down again, and I couldn't. Not right now. I had too much to do, to work on. Instead, I try to laugh, a weak, strained thing with a forced humor I don't feel.


"I uh... I should probably go now, 'cause if I cry any longer, everywhere's gonna be closed,"


It's not funny, but Mom smiles anyway.


"Go. Be safe Abeja,"


It doesn't take me long to get my coat, shoes, and pepper spray, heading out into the cold and growing night. We didn't exactly live in a bad neighbourhood, but it was a gift from my dad, and I felt better with it on me.


As the streetlamps flicker in the darkness, I tug my coat closer, watching my breath mist in front of me. The supermarket glowed ahead. A group of young men hung around the alley next to it. There were four or five of them and were probably a couple years older than me. I could tell by the colors they were wearing that they were part of El Más Grande.


"Hey. Hey chica," catcalled one, running a butterfly knife over his fingers. "You wanna come to a party? My friends like thick chicas like you. They treat you well, I promise,"


OPTIONS:

1. Ignore him.
   
2. Respond reasonably.
   
3. Respond aggressively.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

I just lower my head and avert my eyes. No point in giving him or his buddies a reason to come after me.


"Hey. Hey! Hey chica, I'm talkin' to you!" he calls after me, snapping the blade shut, his tone turning from mocking to irritated. Still, despite the fact that none of them move, I can't help but grab the pepper spray in my pocket, gripping it tightly.


Resisting the urge to hurry into the supermarket, I get in there without incident. The white halogen lights flicker with that audible hum, and the sales clerk, a somewhat greasy looking girl with lobsided bangs, has the expression of the terminally bored. It doesn't take me long to pick up some basic essentials and frozen pizzas. I knew Mom liked cooking from scratch, but there wasn't enough money in my pocket, nor actual groceries in the store's lineup.


With a plastic bag of bread, milk, eggs, and frozen pizza in either hand, I start on my way home.


As I pass by the group from earlier, the one who spoke up pushes himself off from the wall, approaching me.


"Hey, chica, why don't you say something when I talk to you, huh?" he snaps, taking his hands out of his pockets. "My friends, they say that you were disrespectful, ignoring me like that,"


He stands in my way, sneering down at me. "I think so too. That kinda shit is mad disrespectful, you know? Makes me look bad in front of my friends,"


"So I think you better apologise chica,"


OPTIONS:

1. Drop your bags and run.
   
2. Preemptive pepper spray.
   
3. Try to talk your way out.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

I look down and try to think of some sort of reply, something to get this nut off my case, and I can't. I can't even scrounge up the feeling to care. I am genuinely too tired, too burnt out, too emotionally exhausted to pander to some random asshole on what amounts to as the literal worst day of my life. Before I can stop myself, the words just come tumbling out of my mouth.


"Look, I'm sorry, but can we just. Not. Do this today?" I tell him, staring the man squarely in the eyes.


"My little sister has literally just died less than twenty four hours ago. The cost of her chemo will probably cost us our house, and even if it doesn't, I have no idea how we're going to pay for food, let alone her funeral. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I feel like someone has ripped my heart out. I just want to go home, eat my frozen pizza with my mother, and try and not think about how my life has turned to shit, okay?"


"I uh... okay," replied the man slowly, looking at me with an expression of confused pity. "Uh... sorry for your loss,"


He turns to his friends and shrugs as I walk past him.


Mom is cleaning up when I get home. We hadn't been around much recently since we'd been spending so much time at the hospital, so really, there wasn't much to clean, but Mom was never one to just 'sit down'.


"I will pay you back on Thursday when I get paid, okay Abeja?" she tells me when I set the food down. I nod and ignore the comment. She always insisted on trying to pay me back for these kinda things, and I always insisted for her not to. In the end, it was just easier on the both of us if I just sort of ignored the offer.


We ate mostly in silence, consumed by our own thoughts. There wasn't really much in recent events that we wanted to talk about after all.


I said my goodnight after putting my plate in the sink, disappearing back into my room.


Ashley was where I left her, her body now distinctly fetus shaped. The material reserves were getting relatively low though, so I'd have to top them up within the next day or so, otherwise it might result in abnormalities in her growth.


OPTIONS:

1. See if you can slow Ashley's growth for the time being.
   
2. Check the Wards e-mail inbox.
   
3. Check the Toybox e-mail inbox.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

I figured that as long as my immediate future is up in the air, it'd probably be on the safe side to ensure that Ashley doesn't develop faster than I can supply raw materials for her growth process.


The only question is... how am I supposed to go about doing that? After all, these powers didn't exactly come with an instruction manual, and the majority of the work I did last night was in some sort of unremembered manic fit.


I stood in front of the mass of devices, peering around its tangle of tubes and cables, into its humming depths.


Limit the growth hormone by eight degrees. It's the third valve from the left on the back of the material induction tank. Doing so should slow the subjects growth by roughly twenty percent, which will allow the remainder of the raw materials to last the rest of the week. Retarding the growth any further at this point in the subjects life cycle will most likely cause developmental abnormalities.


I blinked. I wasn't sure how I knew that, only that I did, and I knew why it worked like that. I even remembered putting the device together. I just didn't understand where that knowledge was coming from. I wasn't big into the life sciences at school, and it sure as hell wasn't one of my hobbies. Only real interaction I had with anything medical was going to see Mom at the hospital, and being at work.


Still, I reached into the mess of tubing sprouting from what I knew to be the material induction tank and twisted the appropriate nodule the appropriate amount. The gurgling slowed, growing more sedate, but beyond that, nothing else seemed to happen.


It was strange, seeing how quickly I could design and understand devices which modern science could barely hope to comprehend, and I couldn't help but wonder was it like that for all tinkers. I could always ask one... if I knew one.


Actually, come to think about it, there were almost definitely some in the Wards, and the local Protectorate had Archetype. Should be easy enough to get some information off them should I decide to join.


Checking the account that I had sent the email from, I found that there was indeed a reply. Apparently it came in only a half an hour after I sent the initial e-mail.

Send New Email

New Email Received

curiousapplicant@throwaway.com

Re: Wards Application

Dear "curious applicant"


Please tell your friend that applying to the Protectorate Wards program is both a deeply rewarding experience and excellent hands on training for a future career as a parahuman within the Protectorate. That said, it is also not something to be undertaken lightly or without understand the full implications of joining.


It is for this reason that I would like to extend an invitation to the monthly Wards Open Day. This is an event where various young individuals can be given a tour of low level PRT facilities, educated on the benefits and responsibilities of being a member of the Wards, and even a seminar with a current member or Alumni.


The event is entirely free and open to any member of the public below the age of eighteen. The next Open Day in Carpenter Hills is in one weeks time, on Sunday the 18th of December, at the PRT Offices.


We hope this has answered your friend's questions regarding application to the Protectorate Wards program.

OPTIONS:

1. Start to explore your powers.
   
2. Reply to the Wards email.
   
3. Check the Toybox e-mail inbox.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

The Wards Open Day. I thought about it for a few minutes, staring at the faded plaster of my ceiling.


It was too far away. I needed money now, for... everything. For the food, for the house, for the funeral, for Mom, the list went on. If I waited a week, everything could go to hell, and I still wouldn't have any cash. Maybe if I told them I had extenuating circumstances, and wanted a immediate interview?


I shook my head. It's the Wards, not a local supermarket. Can't just stroll up and apply for a job out of the blue like that. They had rules and regulations, which is probably why they had the Open Day every month. To screen applicants en-mass... and probably to help keep the identities of prospective heroes secret, come to think of it.


No, if I wanted money fast, the grey area of legality is where I would have to do it. From what I read about them, Toybox practically wrote the book on that kind of thing.


It didn't take me long to open up the second of throwawsy email accounts. There was a response here too, almost immediately after I had mailed them.

Send New Email

New Email Received

f84utngjor@earag0herfbg8b09

Re: Applying to Toybox

carpenter hills mall 4pm tomorrow


openly carry a wrench

Huh. Brief and to the point. Prompt too. But why a wrench?


OPTIONS:

1. Start to explore your powers.
   
2. Reply to the Wards email.
   
3. Get ready for tomorrow, and go to sleep.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

The one thing though, was that even if I did meet up with them, what would I say? How would I even begin to explain my powers?


Yeah, no, I'm not exactly sure what I can do, but I just cloned my dead sister without her original cancerous genes, wanna see?


I snorted. There was little reason for me to be that personal with people who might not even want me when I wouldn't even admit what I'd done to my own mother.


Still, that's something of a start. I knew my powers had something to do with genes. With that in mind, I waited for the painstakingly slow internet to search for topics relating to genes. It tok several of these slow searches, but once I found what I was looking for, I devoured everything I could get my hands on.


It was weird. Felt like there was something else in my head, making sense of these articles using words I had never heard before, concepts I had never thought of, ideas unknown but strangely familiar. Before this I had never even skimmed over anything more complex than a tenth grade Biology textbook, but here I was reading over multiple doctoral thesis on genetics like they were children's storybooks.


By the time I was finished, it was nearing midnight. I had never felt more awake. More alive.


I had to do something with this knowledge. But what? I couldn't make anything huge, I barely had enough raw materials to keep Ashley going. It'd have to be something small, or altering something that was already up and running. I didn't have a huge amount of samples to mix and match, and with the basic tools I had right now splicing was the limits of my current abilities.


OPTIONS:

1. Make something small.
   
2. Alter Ashley.
   
3. Alter self.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

I didn't have much material to make something new with... and I didn't particularly want to mess around with Ashley. She wasn't my guinea pig after all, she was my sister.


The only willing subject I could immediately think of was... myself.


I mean, I wasn't much to look at really. A fifteen year old girl with chubby features, brown eyes and a dark complexion. Sure, I had wide hips, and I was told that my fuzzy brown hair and crooked smile were cute, but I didn't particularly see anything about myself as attractive. Just... average.


But now, I could change that. Within limit, of course. I only had so many samples with which to splice within my own genetic code, which was... pretty much anything I had nearby. Plants, flowers, the neighbours husky, the local cats, any bugs I could catch, the wealth of cockroaches, that sort of thing.


But with that in mind, there was still quite a lot I could do. Firstly, there was my appearance, such as the pigments in my body, the growth and location of my hair, the texture of my skin, the length and sharpness of my teeth. There was the functions of my body, such as my metabolism and dietary needs, my body temperature, my sense of smell, my hearing, my vision, all of that and others that I could enhance. And then there was the truely mad science styled changes I could enact. Natural weapons, photosynthesis, poison, extra-sensory organs, things which no normal human being would have.


...how far was I willing to go?


OPTIONS:

1. Modify your superficial appearance.
   
2. Modify your natural capabilities.
   
3. Implement an unnatural change.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

Altering my physical appearance semed a bit risky. After all, it wouldn't be hard to notice rather extreme changes in how I look and people would ask questions.


Enhancing my own natural capabilities seemed nice, but it was pretty hard to get the results I'd want with just the samples at hand.


That said, dipping my hand into the pool of the mad scientist actually seemed to be one of the most rational choices. After all, one of my main problems was the massive amount of raw materials I needed at hand to maintain Ashley. If I augmented my need for physical sustenance by substituting it with something else, say photosynthesis, I'd be able to save that much more resources.


As I think of this, the thought of never again tasting a batch of Manny's chilli cheese fries crosses my mind. I purse my lips, grimacing at the loss of needing to eat entirely. Maybe not entirely substituting. Supplementing. Keep the best of both worlds.


With that in mind, I go about collecting the requisite materials. Mostly a few samples of my own blood and pieces of grass. Using those to engineer the retrovirus to rewrite my genetic code and not get rejected by my own body takes surprisingly little time. It was like... now that I kind of had an idea of what I was doing, it was easier to access. The methods, the movement, it was almost like they were a different part of me.


When I finish, the clock is pushing two am. I don't feel any different, but this isn't an instantaneous proces. It'd take a couple hours for the cellular change, and even then, it'd require ultraviolet light to activate the full effects. Following a quick, cursory clean up and look over of Ashley, I figure it's a good time to sleep.


OPTIONS:

1. Set alarm, get up early.
   
2. Set alarm, get up late.
   
3. No alarm, sleep til whenever.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

The shrill electric beeping of an alarm clock is one of the most unwelcome sounds in the world, a thought that comes to mind as I'm woken up by mine. Slowly, other noises come into focus as I wake. The sounds of cars outside. Birdsong. The now somewhat familiar sound of Ashley's gurgling machinery continuing in the background.


Sunlight is streaming in the basement windows, over the bed. It feels weirdly satisfying in a way I can't quite explain, like a slowly growing pump of energy starting from the light on my arms. Within moments of my pulling my arms out from under the covers, I'm wide awake.


I look at my arms, almost afraid to see a tinge of green. Nothing. I guess my little adaption worked perfectly, eliciting a brief sigh of relief. Ideas of becoming some strange green creature of mulch and foileage haunted my dreams, now put to rest with a stress I didn't know I was feeling.


The clock reads eleven thirty. I don't have to be at the Mall until four at the latest, but even then, getting there early seems like a smart thing to do. Still, there's some things to be done before then.


Taking a little time to soak up the thin light, I rise, wash and dress in short order, after making sure that Ashley's doing okay. Since slowing her growth, the development of the embryo within has understandibly slowed, but even so, it seemed to be considerably faster than a natural organism. At the moment, she looked recognisably human, a child mere weeks before being born.


OPTIONS:

1. Go talk to Mom.
   
2. Head straight for the Mall.
   
3. Call your best friend.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

If I was going to be spending the latter part of the day with possible parahuman felons, I might want to keep someone aware of the fact of where I've gone, or disappeared to. With that in mind, I send a quick text to Kat.


Sorry for no contact. Lot of serious stuff happened. Letting you know I went to the Mall at 4 in case I disappear. Can't tell you why right now. Will dish full deets later.


Because that didn't sound like a cryptic plot hook. I grimace. Couldn't be helped. If I left a note down here, I'd have to leave the door unlocked, which might lead to Mom discovering Ashley, and that was arguably a worse situation than the possibility of being kidnapped. No, I could trust Kat to keep her cool for the time being, but


she was going to explode with questions when I eventually got to talk with her.


I checked the clock again. Twelve twenty three. It only took an hour to get to the Mall, and the bus left at one forty. I should probably talk to Mom before I go. She's probably still hurting over Ashley, unaware of what I had done.


I found her in the kitchen, fastidiously cleaning up. The place was immaculate, but she was still scrubbing counters.


"Mom?"


"Oh!" She turns around, sponge still in hand. From the bags under her eyes, I could tell she hadn't slept. Not that I could blame her.


"Ah, Abeja, I wanted to talk to you. About... what you said yesterday. About..." she trailed off.


"...about powers," I finished for her. I could feel the words hang in the air, making atmosphere that much more tense.


"Yes," Mom responded quietly. "About powers."


There was silence between the two of us, Mom looking me in the eyes. I couldn't help but avert my gaze.


"You said you know how to make things. Like Armsmaster. Like Archetype," she said finally. "You mean, you know how to make weapons. Guns,"


I shook my head. "No, Mom, it's different than that. I make... like... living things. Change things that are alive,"


The worried look in her eyes deepens.


"...living things?" she repeats slowly.


"Uhm..." I manage hurriedly, trying to explain it as nicely as possible. "Like... uh... you know how they breed animals, like dogs and horses and stuff? Like that, only much faster and more complex, with machines,"


There's an expression of faint realisation, layered over a considerable amount of confusion.


"So, you have made a living thing then, yes? That is what you have taken all the food for, to feed it?"


"...yeah,"


Mom seems to think about this for several moments.


"What did you make? Why?"


"I... uh..."


OPTIONS:

1. Tell her the truth.
   
2. Tell her it died/ran away.
   
3. Tell her it's not finished yet.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

"It's..." I start awkwardly. "It's not finished yet. It... might not ever be finished,"


Mom raised an eyebrow.


"It's... complicated. Growing. I'm not too good at this sort of thing yet, so there might be problems, it might break, it... there's a lot that can go wrong,"


I shrugged.


"Lotta ways she might just not develop right,"


As the words left my mouth, I felt the blood leave my face, a chill creeping up my flesh. I tried to keep my expression neutral.


"She?"


My mouth opened, but I couldn't form any words.


"Is it something like... a pet, Abeja?"


The smile came quickly as relief washed over me, tinged with a shadow of guilt. Mom didn't even think of the worst possibility. She expected better of me.


"I- ...yeah," I breathed, nodding with a smile. "Yeah it is. Kinda like a pet,"


She still shook her head at me. "I do not know if we can afford a pet Abeja. And what about my allergies? I was always very clear about no pets,"


"Yeah, I know Mom," I wasn't sure if I was trying to reassure her or myself. "I know. Everything will work out, don't worry,"


Mom just looked at the floor, eyes wandering around the empty kitchen.


"I hope so," she murmured.


"I have not told your father yet, about... about what has happened to you. I was hoping that you could see him later tonight,"


Before I could answer, my phone started buzzing, a simple electronic "ring ring" noise warbling across the kitchen.


OPTIONS:

1. Answer it, tell Mom it's an emergency, leave.
   
2. Answer it, find out who it is.
   
3. Ignore it, agree to meet your father.
   
4. Ignore it, disagree to meet your father.
   
5. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

Mom looks at me.


"Do you want to answer that Abeja?"


I shake my head in response, ignoring the sound.


"It's just Kat," I tell her. "I'll call her back. But yeah, I can go see Dad tonight. What time though?"


"He said if you would like to, he will pick you up at six,"


Six. Nowhere near enough time for me to get to the Mall and back while expecting to have any reasonable sort of conversation with whoever is there.


"I uh... could we push the time back? I'll probably be late, I have to go out for a thing,"


"A thing? Maria, what could be so important that you would have to go out today of all days?"


OPTIONS:

1. Tell the truth.
   
2. Say you're going shopping.
   
3. Say that you have a meeting with the Wards.
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.

 

[Silvertongued]

"I'm..."


I'm meeting up with a bunch of black market parahumans. I- We need the money. For everything. But you won't understand that. You've got too much pride, too much integrity. But I... I don't.


I steady my breath.


"I'm meeting up with the Wards," I explain. It surprises me how easily the lies passes from my lips, and how easily my mother believes it. It shouldn't, and the fact that it never even crosses her mind that I'm lying sends a fresh stab of guilt through my guts.


"Maria!" Mom exclaims angrily, setting her hands on her hips. "I told you that we would have to talk about this with your papa before anything was to be done!"


I raise my hands, nodding my head awkwardly.


"I know, I know, and this isn't about me joining the Wards, it's more about me..."


It's hard not avert my gaze. I do so anyway.


"It's more about me learning to use my powers. I'm... well, I'm- I'm scared," I manage to stammer out, looking at the floor. This was truth. What I had done, what I was slowly realising that I was capable of, what I might do in the future, it was all terrifying. I had barely had them over twenty four hours, and I had already done, and was continuing to do something that most people would find unforgiveable.


"...Maria," is the soft response, Mom touching my arm gently.


"I'm scared, and it's like there's so much for me to deal with, and I know all this stuff, and I know how to use it, and what I can do with it, but I don't know what to do with it, or how everyone would react, and it's all just pushing down on me and I'm worried about Ashley and about Ricard and about the house and how are we going to afford everything and-"


M voice starts cracking, and my words grow hoarse. Before I know it, I'm shaking, and on the verge of tears. Mom's arms are wrapped around me, holding me close.


"It will be okay Abeja. It will be okay,"


"I-,"


I can barely choke out the words before that hard lump pushes up from my throat, cutting through my speech with a sob. Once it starts, I can't stop. I squeeze Mom tightly, burying my head in her shoulder, sobbing and shaking quietly. Mom just pets the back of my head, humming an old song she used to sing to us as children.


We're quiet, for a while. She holds me, and I take comfort in her warmth, ignoring the little ache of guilt inside.


"Are you okay Abeja?"


I disentangle myself from her, wiping the wetness from my face.


"Yeah," I snuffle, wiping my face again. "I think I needed that,"


"I think we all do," Mom nodded, giving me a small smile. "But if this is about learning about your powers, then go. Call me when you know when you will be getting back, okay Abeja?"


"Alright Mom,"


I get my things, preparing to leave.


"...Maria, what about breakfast? And... why are you carrying a wrench?"


"I... uh, they're offering a lunch, and for uh... a joke?"


Mom gives me a strange look, but shakes it off.


"Okay Abeja. Be safe, and remember to call me,"


"I will Mom, don't worry,"


With that, I'm off. On the way to the bus stop, I wind up passing by the same guys from last night.


"Hey! Hey chica!"


It's the same guy too.


OPTIONS:

1. Tell him to piss off/flip him off.
   
2. Ignore him.
   
3. "What!?"
   
4. Write in~
   

Please respond in OOC thread.