Questionable Questing
Gusfes, Vagabond replied to a thread you are watching at Questionable Questing.
[NSFW] - Scrap Metal Philosophy (Worm, Commission)

Scrap Metal Philosophy
Chapter 10
-VB-
Taylor took in a deep breath.
She and dad were eating breakfast, and knew that right now was perhaps the best time for her to talk to dad. She knew that he needed to go to work, but they could do without him for one day, right?
It wasn't like she intended to talk to him for eight hours straight. Hell, he'll probably go to work as soon as their talk was done.
She wondered if he will, actually. Dad might, but he also might feel too overwhelmed by what she might be telling him to want to go to work.
Or he still might go to work because he didn't care about what she did.
"Dad."
He paused. This was different from other times. Whenever she called him, he didn't pause like he did right now. When he slowly looked up, she … noted how he looked like a squirrel? You know, like, a squirrel that just saw a coyote and was ready to jump at a moment's notice.
Why did dad look so off guard?
"Dad, I need to talk to you about something important. It's more important than me going to college."
There, that was sure to get his attention.
"... Okay. What is it?" he asked slowly.
And now that she had the chance, her lips refused to open again. Fuck. She manually and deliberately opened her lips, sucked in a deep breath… and let it out slowly.
"I'm … a cape."
Dad froze.
And then she saw it. It was the same self-loathing look she saw in the mirror sometimes but it was on dad's face now.
"It was the locker, wasn't it?" he asked quietly before burying his face into his hands with his elbows on the table, breakfast forgotten.
She dumped her awkward frustration into her swarm.
"Yes."
"... Okay. Okay." Ah, he was getting angry, but he was also trying to curb it? "How do you feel about your power? Do you like it? Hate it?"
She blinked. She didn't think he would ask a question like that. "I … don't know?" she replied lamely. "I never thought about what I felt about my power, just how to use it."
"And what does it do?" he asked her, and she heard the curiosity in his voice.
"I control bugs."
"Bugs? Like mosquitos, mayflys, -"
"Yeah. Anything that's small and doesn't have a vertebrate."
He looked at her.
"... Including lobsters?"
She blinked. She … never tested that? "I don't know."
He nodded slowly. "I guess it's understandable you don't know much about your power; it's only been two months since you got your power."
Taylor frowned. It felt like he was saying she didn't know her power. And … it did kind of sound like that when she couldn't answer if she could control lobster after saying she could control anything small and without vertebrate. She thought she was being smart describing her power in detail. Now, all she heard from her own words was how she didn't know about her own power.
"Thank you."
She looked up at him and realized he was smiling. "What?"
"For telling me. I know a lot of teen capes don't exactly tell their parents…" They didn't? How would he know? It's not like… "The PRT often makes statements about that on public announcements or whenever something happens." Right…
She took a deep breath in. "I … actually have a friend who's a cape, too, and I want him to help me."
Dad looked at her without an undecipherable face before nodding slowly again. She could see veins on his neck. He was angry, though it wasn't at her. It made her uncomfortable, but she was going to get through this talk one way or another!
"And who might this friend be?"
She felt her throat clench up.
"H-He saved me. From a bullet."
She squeaked when dad shot up. His eyes now wide and bloodshot, lips drawn downward into a frown, and veins popping up left, right, center, and neck.
"Who tried to hurt you, Taylor?"
"C-Coil! It was Coil!"
Dad looked confused for a second. His eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out who-.
It took him less than a second. After all, Coil's name had been all over the news.
"Techscav. Your friend is Techscav."
She nodded hurriedly.
Dad sunk back into his chair and he dropped his face back into his hands.
"Okay, okay," he muttered. "How. He. Agh." She looked down and tried not to squirm. When dad spoke up again, he looked dead tired. "He rampaged all over Downtown, killed a cape in civilian identity, and then pulverized the local heroes… because he was saving you?"
She nodded.
"... Why do I keep failing you, Taylor?"
His voice sounded wet.
"C-Coil attacked out of nowhere. I wasn't even acting as a cape. I didn't have any mask. He just … shot to kill."
"And Techscav took that personally."
"After catching a bullet in his hand meant for my head, yeah."
Dad looked tired. No, exhausted.
… No. Depressed.
Taylor wondered if dad really was depressed. Don't depressed people just sit in their beds all day and night?
"Okay. I want to meet him first."
"Dad…?"
He met her stare with a firm gaze of his own. "He saved you. Helped you when I couldn't. So I want to tlak to him, thank him, and see what his angle might be."
"Techscav's not a bad guy."
"I never said he was," he replied. "But I want to confirm it."
"... Okay. You know he actually told me to tlak with you about this."
"Did he? Another thing that I have to thank him for."
Then he stood up, walked around the table, and hugged her.
"... I'm sorry."
She hugged him back, and they just hugged silently until …
Dad's stomach growled.
She laughed. He laughed.
It was a good day.View This ThreadUnread Watched Threads
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Questionable Questing
Gusfes, Vagabond replied to a thread you are watching at Questionable Questing.
[NSFW] - Swiss Arms (Historical SI Gamer)

Swiss Arms
Chapter 52
-VB-
I did a lot of things while I waited for the response from the younger duke of Upper Bavaria and the arrival of Isabella's cousin. One of the minor changes included upgrading my one and only armor set. There was only a beaten iron chestplate, full-face covering iron mask, and a bear fur cloak. They were… serviceable. Isabella, however, suggested that I tried to improve upon it because it could be an insult to her cousin if I showed up and just acted like, as she put it, a knight-errant. She also pointed out how I didn't have a decent attire to meet someone of her cousin's standing.
The difference was … if I had to use my old life's example, then I would be the mayor of small rural town in Iowa with maybe two thousand people who would soon meet the mayor of New York City.
Of course, I knew that I was a wild card myself. My gemstone and precious metal exports, sugar trade, paper production in allied holdings, and the direct blessing of the Prince-Bishop of Chur made me a growing power.
And if that growing power didn't greet someone of higher status and lineage properly… then that was an insult, no matter what he may have intended.
So what did I do?
I got myself a new wardrobe.
Partially.
See, as aggressively growing and slowly city-like Fluelaberg was becoming, it was still a hick town up in the mountains whose only purpose was hindering everyone's expansion in whatever direction they wanted to. Sure, it was better than most towns out there because one of the few things that I had been insistent upon as the town formed was the laying of sturdy cobblestone roads, but it was still a rural castle town.
This also meant that the closest tailor for the nobility was far away from where we were. With only a limited time for myself to get decked out, I could not go back and forth for the clothes.
Well, technically speaking, I could. I could run faster, farther, and longer than anyone, but someone still had to make the clothes, and the ones for the nobility took months, if not years, to be done up to standard.
So I made do what I could and asked the locals to put together something for me while Isabella supervised.
The end result was … it came very close to being that weird renaissance Italy clothing. I wasn't sure what it was called, but it came close. It was only at my insistence that I may need to work in the field if I ever encountered any trouble that the attire lost some of the fragile and downright unnecessary surface area. The modified attire was slimmer, which fit my taste just fine.
But still…
It looked very … uh … well, I'm not sure. It's very flowy. And it came down to my knees, I had to wear separate pants, and the only thing keeping the top part from flying away in the high winds of the Alps was a belt.
At least I didn't have to do anything for my short hair.
"Finally, you look more like a noble that you are."
I turned around and found myself looking at Isabella, who had forgone her usual flowing dress of red and white for … was that Periment blue?
"Where did you get that color?" I asked her in surprise.
She grinned. "You told me I could use any dye you were experimenting with."
"... so you used the periment blue?" I thought she would try to use the striking red I had. That shade of red was the most expensive dye I had. Chemistry lab was something I was working on, though it resembled less a chemistry lab and more of a staining lab with how much everything was stained by pigments. Periment blue was a random combination of mineral and organic pigment combination I found after brute forcing through two dozen combinations. I called it periment blue because it came from a combination of a local flower called periwinkle and river rocks called talment. I was unfamiliar with either of them, so I didn't know their future science names. I said fuck it and just called the dye by combining their two names.
"Yes!" she giggled. "I mean, look at this! This blue is so deep! It's deeper than the color of the Mediterranean!"
She spun around and her periment blue dress's skirt did a small twirl. She came to a stop after only one spin and grinned at me. "Thank you, by the way, for letting me use them."
"No problem," I smiled before spying a small caravan heading our way from the Fluela Pass. Well, saying that it was a caravan would be misnomer, because half of that caravan was comprised of well-armed and armored knights, men-at-arms, and soldiers. It was my first view of a well-organized medieval military band. Compared to what the late baron, the bishop, or any of the counts had, that was an actual band of knights.
And at the head of them all was the margrave himself.
I couldn't see what he looked like, only the banner and the fact that they were well-armored and armed.
"Is that your cousin?" I asked her.
Isabella turned to look and squinted. "Huh. You can see that far, Hans?"
"Yes."
"Yes… That is the banner of my cousin, the Duke of Carinthia and Margrave of Carniola."
I nodded. "Well, let's go greet him."View This ThreadUnread Watched Threads
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