Wake 1.10
2010, September 14: Brockton Bay, NH, USA
"How was your day?" I asked as I closed the door behind me. My computer monitor turned itself on, revealing SAINT's blocky, pastel face. I shrugged off my backpack and tossed it to a corner before flopping face down onto the bed.
"Pory," I heard a soft trill as he emerged from the screen. "Gon?"
I felt a twinge in our bond. Concern mixed with curiosity. He was like that, always wanted to know more about human interactions, these tricky things called emotions that defied standardized equations. Flipping through the screen, I saw that Magnet Rise was approximately seventy-two percent finished, my fifth move.
"No, nothing terrible happened or anything. I'm just not a fan of school is all."
"Reee?" He nudged me with his nose. It felt like cold plastic.
"Why do I attend? That's a complicated question. You know that my soul is older than my body, right?" I flipped over to face my friend. I'd told him about me; SAINT was the only fully reliable confidant I had. "Well, no one else knows that so everyone expects me to do the things that are important for this body's development. A school is a place to learn and grow, to socialize and develop skills a human child needs to become a productive member of society. I've already been through it once so it's a little boring, and if I'm being honest, a little lonely."
"Porygon. Po-ry."
"I can't tell people," I said. "To start, no one would believe me. I just have to put up with it. Besides, I have you." I held his plastic head in my hands and gave him a good scratch. It was weird how much he liked that despite the lack of any sensitive nerves as far as I could tell.
"Pory… gon," he chirped, telling me about his day.
From what I understood, Magnet Rise was giving him some trouble. It was special among electric type moves in that the pokémon needed to do more than generate an electrical charge; they needed to actively sense magnetic currents throughout their surroundings and adjust their own polarity before using it to fly.
Complicated, to say the least. Porygon did it somewhat instinctively to a degree, though not nearly as well as a magnemite. I suspected I'd need a lot of practice before I could pretend to be Magneto. More than likely, the best I'd manage for quite some time would be a controlled glide, or maybe a boost to jumping if I'm lucky.
One of the videos I'd left to him was a video of Manpower adjusting his electromagnetic field to deflect bullets. SAINT hovered in the center of the room and concentrated, causing my metal pen to float to him.
"That's wonderful, buddy," I praised him. "I'm proud of you."
"Pory!"
I rewarded SAINT with some well-deserved snacks and got to work.
During world issues, I'd thought about my hypothesis for SAINT's learning rate. If SAINT found moves with the same type easier to learn, it stood to reason that he should change types. Porygon were one of the most versatile pokémon out there with a signature move known as Conversion that allowed them to change types to whichever move they experienced last.
"SAINT, use Conversion," I said randomly.
He was halfway through slurping up some cashews, but complied anyway. He was covered in white light that divided itself into pixels. When the pixels scattered, he looked at me with a dead-eyed stare. "Reee…"
"Right, you're a normal type and you became a normal type. Duh," I facepalmed. "Sorry, give me a sec." I focused for a moment and Thunder Wave sparked in my hands. Reaching out, I gave him the briefest of jolts. He could have resisted it but allowed the status move to take hold. "Okay, now try Conversion." The same pixelated light covered him. When it faded, he… still looked the same. "Are you an electric type now?"
"Pory!" he cheered. He demonstrated his newfound affinity for electricity by lifting my desk lamp, pens, and belt buckles simultaneously.
"Cool. I was thinking, you might have an easier time learning electric moves if you yourself are an electric type. Can you try this out tomorrow?"
"Gon," he agreed with an enthusiastic chirp. His floating was much faster now.
I loaded up several moves I wanted him to try learning tomorrow: Thunder Shock and its more powerful version, Thunderbolt joined the queue. Then came the all-powerful Zap Cannon and the perfectly accurate Shock Wave. I didn't know which of these would be simplest for him to learn, so I left him instructions to try a bit of everything and work on what felt most comfortable.
Once the queue was squared away, I got to tinkering for the evening; those expanded bags wouldn't make themselves.
Thinking back on my deal with Faultline, I was impressed by her generosity.
A retail space like I asked for typically cost tens of thousands of dollars, especially in a good location, and that was to rent by the year, not purchase. Granted, my definition of "good" was just "anywhere I'm not likely to be disturbed," but the point stood. Space away from the gangs would be pricey. She was also using her connections to ensure confidentiality by acting as my proxy, a service worth thousands on its own. All told, it wouldn't be strange for Faultline to charge me upwards of sixty grand and she'd settled for four expanded bags instead.
Depending on what she ferried around, I could see her making that much money back in three or four jobs, but I somehow doubted that she would be willing to lug around hundreds of pounds of high quality cocaine. At the end of the day, she was going through a lot of trouble to cater to me, for equipment I considered basic.
'Or more likely, she wants to keep a good relationship with the new tinker and decided that eating the cost of getting me lab space was worth it if she could claim priority on any commissions in the future.'
Nonetheless, I resolved to cut her some deals in the future. A woman who could think forward was a rarity among capes, one I wanted in my corner. I got done making the first of four bags and put the rest aside for later. I was never good at repetitive busywork.
'Can I build anything else that Faultline would be interested in buying?'
The answer to that was a resounding yes. With so much material repurposed from the junkyard, I wasn't lacking in resources either. I could always use industrial grade forges, distillers, lathes, and whatnot, but that would always be the case. Tools to build more tools to build more tools and all that.
I idly browsed my DSS inventory while I contemplated what I'd offer her next. Several minutes later, I decided that if she commissioned a disguise cloak from me in the future, and that seemed likely given her preference for precise operations, then she could really benefit from my hacking suite as well.
I started by taking several discarded flip phones and pagers and reworking them completely. They lacked many of the functionalities of my PokéNav, but I didn't need them to be digital Swiss army knives. They weren't even phones by the time I was done with them.
Instead, I completely emptied their hard drives until I had husks of scrap. The blank drives were filled with an isolated version of the hacking suite native to my Expansion Suit. They wouldn't be able to disable electronics at a distance like Essentia could do to pokéballs. The suite in my suit could be taken over by SAINT to adapt to systems that changed their passcodes real time, but these could not. The absence of an electrokinetic AI meant they wouldn't work on tinkertech, nor on anything that wasn't an electronic lock.
They were crude and worked by gauging how many characters belonged in a password before brute forcing every permutation at one-point-two billion passwords per second. After all, there were only ninety-four numbers, letters, and symbols on a standard keyboard.
These, I named "bug boxes." Using all the phones and pagers I scavenged from the junkyard got me four of them.
X
2010, September 15: Brockton Bay, NH, USA
Wednesday found me with a fat grin on my face. I learned Magnet Rise. More importantly, I was proven correct. Conversion was a valid strategy.
Not only had SAINT picked up Magnet Rise, he was well on his way to mastering Shock Wave, the electric type version of Swift. I was tempted to rush him so I could learn Zap Cannon, but in the end, I stopped myself. After Magnet Rise, I decided not to download any more moves into my brain. I wasn't full or anything; there wasn't a blue notification screen that popped up to tell me I couldn't learn more moves.
And yet, I could feel each download straining. The sensation was hard to describe, a feeling instead of concrete knowledge. My aura, for lack of a better word, felt ragged, like a sweater made to stretch too far. It could be perfectly healthy, a spiritual muscle-ache after rigorous exercise. Or, it could be my body and soul telling dumbfuck me to stop pushing my luck.
Caution seemed wise; the TM library would be there later.
Besides, I didn't want to be the magic equivalent of a mall ninja, the kind of idiot who carried a dozen weapons but didn't know how to use a single one.
Before I left for school, Sierra told me she'd pick me up from school to go shopping for a shirt and tie. There was some obligatory grumbling, but I'd long since resigned myself to my sister's tender mercies. I jogged to school and took a shower there in lieu of my normal morning run.
X
"Bryce, over here," I heard my sister shout from the front of the school. Her Ford Focus was parked just outside the range of the faraday cage. I approached and made to get in the front seat but she rolled down the window to reveal a familiar brunette.
"Hey, Sabah, my sis dropping you off somewhere?" I greeted the gentle girl. She looked a bit off from when I saw her the other day. It was hard to tell from a distance due to her dark skin, but there were definite bags under her eyes.
"No, I'm coming with you to the mall," she said with a small smile.
"You sure? You look tired."
"Sabah's in need of a bit of retail therapy and she's great with fashion so she's going to be helping you pick out a shirt and tie," Sierra chirped. She sounded cheerful, but she made eye contact with me through the rear-view mirror. "When she's done with you, you'll be the best dressed guy there."
"Yay, I get to be the dress-up doll today," I said, sarcasm dripping like honey. 'Is her dad starting to get sick? Or maybe something else?'
"Don't give me that, Sabah's amazing, I promise."
"I'd be honored to receive her help. It's you I'm afraid of."
"Oi! What's wrong with me?"
"Ginger. Dreadlocks."
"Let it go already. I'm not changing my hairdo because you think it's weird."
I could hear soft giggling from the front as Sierra pulled out of the parking lot. "Tell her, Sabah," I said. "She looks ridiculous, right?"
"I don't, right, Sabs?"
"No comment."
"Hah!" we both shouted. "Jinx! Jinx! Jinx the third!"
Sabah's giggling turned into full blown laughter at our antics and I saw my sister mouth a "thank you" through the mirror. I sent her a cheesy thumbs up and a wink.
Not ten minutes later, we pulled into the mall in front of For the Gentleman, a boutique specializing in formal wear and some business casual dress. "So, what are we looking for?" Sierra asked. "You did remember to get a picture of her dress, right?"
"Of course I did. Sabah, what's your number? I'll send it to you too." We made our way into the store and made a beeline for the shirts. I saw Sierra pull some off the shelf, seemingly at random. "Do you even know my sizes?"
"Yeah, mom texted it to me. Now go to the dressing room. You remember how to tie a tie?"
"Yes," I said, eyes rolling. Nonetheless, I complied when I saw Sabah's eyes light up with interest. I wouldn't say she became a whole different person, but there was pep in her step that wasn't there before we entered the boutique, a liveliness that only the truly passionate seemed to have.
Five minutes later, I was wearing a generic white shirt with a deep blue tie. I stepped out of the dressing room for inspection. "So, how do I look, Sabs?"
"I'm just chopped liver, huh?" Sierra grumbled.
"Again. Ginger. Dreads."
Sabah ignored our banter and gave me a once-over, her phone with a picture of Amy's dress out for comparison. She reached around behind my neck and adjusted my tie, ending at the small triangle knot with a swift tug that pulled the whole thing tighter. "No, this won't do," she said. "Bryce, you're too short. The tie is going to look long. The color is a little too light, too. I think it could use some designs maybe? How do you feel about some patterns to liven up the outfit?"
Her usual shy reservation was nowhere to be found and I marveled at the girl who would one day be Parian. One day, this girl would have the power to wrestle Behemoth. One day, she would be a major pillar of the strongest faction in this city. It was honestly a bit hard to reconcile the two images I had of her. Parian didn't have the same gravitas as Skitter, but she definitely wasn't just nobody either.
"I'll defer to your expert opinion," I responded with a smile.
Her expert opinion turned out to be a white shirt with silver accents and a navy-blue tie that matched Amy's dress perfectly. The tie was decorated with stars embossed in white and silver thread that made it seem a bit less stuffy. She also included a matte black clip of some sort.
"This is a tie clip. It's meant to keep your tie attached to your shirt and goes between the third and fourth buttons, like so." She put it on me, a bar of solid black that helped break up the pattern of my tie. "Since your suit is pitch black, it'll complement your outfit and make sure your tie isn't flopping everywhere while you dance."
Meanwhile, Sierra grabbed a gaudy lapel pin and a black jacket meant for size comparisons. "Think this would look good on him?" The pin was a painfully bright red rose with petals that ended in brass tips. "It's pretty."
I could see Sabah try not to laugh. "If he were a lot older and wearing a white suit, maybe. A lapel pin should complement the tie, or his partner's dress. It should draw the eye but not be so large or ostentatious as to become a novelty item. A rose with gold flecks is just a novelty."
"Yeah, sis, do you want me to get beat up at the dance? I'll look like a peacock if I wear that."
"It's not that bad," she pouted.
"It's not," Sabah soothed her bruised pride. She then walked over to the gallery of accessories and picked one out. "Something like this would be better though." Her choice was half the size of the rose, a white butterfly with bright blue wingtips. "Normally, you want to match the tie, but because the tie is dark blue and your suit is black, a dark blue lapel pin would just blend into the suit and go unnoticed. Something brighter to break up all that black is good here so we'll match the shirt instead."
"Again, I defer to your wisdom," I bowed. "How about cufflinks? Do I need those?"
She shook her head. "This is homecoming, not a wedding or gala. Cufflinks were made for shirts that didn't have sleeve buttons of their own, but are now just fancy accessories worn at black tie events. If you don't need a tux, you don't need cufflinks. Technically, you don't need a lapel pin either, but I like the butterfly on you."
"Sweet, so are we done?"
She must have heard the audible relief in my tone because her eyes gained a distinctly mischievous glint. "You can set aside the things you want to buy. I don't get a male model to dress up often though," she hummed.
I snatched the clothes and made for the cashier but my sister dragged me back by the back of my shirt. "Come on, Bryce. Don't you think you should repay Sabah for her 'expert opinion?'" she asked with a sickeningly sweet voice.
I glanced pleadingly at one of the salespeople, but he shook his head with a sad grin and powerwalked away. Traitorous asshole. "Fine…" I sighed, resigned to my fate.
X
After a long day of being Sabah's dress-up doll, a part of me wanted to just turn in to bed but I persevered. Midnight found me leaping through the rooftops as Creed.
I headed to the Boat Graveyard, body glowing with the light of Agility. The move came a bit easier each time I used it and maybe it was my imagination, but I was getting faster.
Admittedly, the Graveyard was a bit cliché; new capes were always said to head over there to test their powers, but it wasn't like I could fire off Thunder Waves at home either. That was begging for a blackout. A part of me was worried about getting camped at the Graveyard, but I reassured myself that I had plenty of powers, more than most capes. All else failed, I had SAINT in the PokéNav acting as my assistant and surprise combatant. An Agility-boosted, Sharpened Tackle would wreck almost anyone's day.
Considering the capes I could possibly run into, I figured I was as safe as I could reasonably be, definitely safer than the Queen of Escalation on her first night.
Despite my misgivings, I made it to the Graveyard without meeting anyone.
Looking around, I got a bright idea.
Instead of settling on a boat that could be walked to from the harbor, I used a combination of Magnet Rise and SAINT's floating body as support to find a tanker that jutted out of the water like an island. The one I settled on was a hair longer than two hundred meters, or six hundred fifty-six feet, small-ish for a tanker.
It was named the Gullrest. A quick google search on SAINT's part revealed that it wasn't even used to transport oil; it was instead a freight transport used to move goods up and down the Atlantic coastline.
"This thing wouldn't make a bad base, eh, SAINT? It's isolated and defensible. Might have some trouble moving goods to and from here though, but I guess that's what the DSS is for," I mused.
Putting my thoughts aside, I headed inside the ship.
The interior reminded me of several warehouses; with each door left open from when the shipping companies emptied it of valuables. There were a few bits of leftover machinery here and there, but they were long since rusted over, good for little more than recycling.
Inside one of those wide open storage spaces, I set up a crude shooting range made of bits of scrap metal and concrete.
"SAINT, I'm going to try firing a Thunder Wave by myself. Then, I want you to assist me with the targeting suite in the Expansion Suit. Record all tries so we can get an idea of my accuracy with and without your help."
I heard his trilling assent in my speakers. This would be my first time trying to launch a ranged attack. I felt a bit nervous. Spreading my legs, I braced myself in an estimation of a stable stance and held my hand outward. "Thunder Wave," I called.
I felt my aura answer like an eager puppy, jittery in a way Agility wasn't, and flow through my hand. A bright orb of shimmering gold formed at the tip of my fingers. I formed a gun with my fingers and braced with the other hand. I didn't need to; it wasn't as though I received some innate instructions from the TM to pose. It just felt right, comfortable. Perhaps I'd been watching too many cop dramas.
Then, the moment passed and the marble of condensed electrical aura fired. It wasn't a lance or laser, that implied a concentrated attack and it was anything but. Instead, it was an arc of electricity that spread out for a moment before becoming drawn to where I was aiming as though my fingers were a stormcloud and the target was the ground. The arc of electricity shot out and struck the aluminum plate I'd set up as a target, only to fizzle into the surroundings harmlessly.
"Kind of hard to see how much damage I'm doing against metal," I muttered.
I decided to set even smaller targets at several paces. Five one dollar bills were taped to scrap pieces and stood at varying distances. One by one, I took my shot unaided by the targeting suite.
I hit the closest bill square on George Washington's nose. The second landed near his collar. The third only barely clipped the edge of the bill and I missed the furthest two targets.
"Well, shit. Okay, SAINT. Activate the targeting suite please."
"Porygon," I heard him nod.
My HUD faded into a burnt orange before flickering back to normal colors, all save the dollar bills. The targets were clearly marked in neon blue. I raised my finger and took aim again, only to find that a burnt orange dot, brighter than anything else and providing lovely contrast with the blue, followed my aim. It felt almost like playing a shooting game.
Pity that I was never very good at those.
Still, this time, I was able to hit all five with ease. With the enhanced abilities of the suit and a targeting software to guide me, it'd have been embarrassing to do anything less. Frankly, if this was the kind of help the Expansion Suit gave Emma, it certainly explained how some random orphaned street rat could react to champion-tier pokémon well enough to command them in battle.
We continued on with target practice for an hour and a half before moving on to training my Protect. I still exhausted myself with only a few Tackles from SAINT, but my aura pool, if it could be called that, seemed to refill as quickly as my stamina. I found it much like running a sprint, taking a breather, then running again.
Author's Note
Fun fact: Modern computers can test anywhere from 10,000 to 1 billion passwords per second. Bryce's tinkertech is a bit better and doesn't even need to be plugged in.
I'm honestly having more fun writing the slice of life moments like Sabah helping to pick out Bryce's shirt, than I am the cape moments sometimes. It's weird, but scenes just write themselves. You'd be surprised at how much fashion knowledge you can pick up living in DC and wearing a suit for much of your professional life (pre-COVID).
Yah, I rolled for the Graveyard too. Lucky too, because I honestly would have thrown everything from a few Merchants to Oni Lee at him.
Moves known by Bryce: Protect, Recover, Agility, Thunder Wave, Magnet Rise
Moves known by SAINT: Tackle, Conversion, Sharpen, Protect, Recover, Agility, Thunder Wave, Magnet Rise, Shock Wave
Moves in SAINT's queue: Thunderbolt, Zap Cannon, Lock-On, Tri-Attack(?), Ice Beam(?), Psychic(?)