Slayer Anderson
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Butler Boy - Chapter 15
🕑 Added 2025-12-28 10:25:04 +0000 UTCSo, Thomasville had an airport.
Yes, I know that's weird and hard to believe.
It's a tiny town of under three thousand people, it absolutely does not need an airport, but it had one. It was, by most accounts, also the highest altitude civilian airport in the United States, a point of pride for the community. Also bragging rights for crazy Americans because pilots hated flying into or out of it. The runway length, quality, and high-altitude turbulence were not kind to low-skill pilots, who were advised to just not make the attempt.
Thousand-foot drops on both the front and back side of the runway will do that.
There was constant talk about resurfacing the entire thing and re-leveling it as well, but funding hadn't manifested. Which meant that you had to take into account a fairly infamous 'dip' in the center of the mountain-top plateau runway, which further complicated things. The length also meant that only narrow-body planes could use the strip, negating any kind of significant passenger movement.
Which meant that the only people who really used the strip were locals flying to and from Denver and high-end tourists buying into the charter flights that ran regionally.
Rarely did the airport see something like what Bruce Wayne had sent.
It was an all-black Kordstream II Custom with silver trim and the Wayne Enterprises logo stamped on both sides. The entire thing was fully electric, an early joint project between the 'it's totally not alien tech' Kordtech Company and the US military trying to wean the oil-hungry airforce off at least a portion of the massive reserve of petroleum fuels kept for strategic purposes.
The moment I'd set eyes on it, I'd known this thing was an absolute beast under the hood, capable of crossing the entire continental United States if it had its secondary batteries equipped. As soon as we'd gotten going, the electric turbine scram jet engines – two on each wing – managed to push us up to a cruising speed of just over five hundred knots.
As far as amenities went? It was basically a very fancy private condo that flew around the sky and could take you wherever you wanted.
“Okay, I take it back all the whining, squirt,” Addie grinned as she lounged next to me on the opulently-stuffed sofa that wasn't even trying to masquerade as a flight seat. “Forget your little secret base... this is where it's at. Oh, I am going to brag so hard about this to Sandra and Alex. Man, I wonder what something like this costs?”
“About three thousand dollars,” I replied bluntly, my attention on the design I was sketching and the notebook to my side. My sister scoffed. “Per hour.”
There was a telling silence.
“Oh,” she replied quietly.
“Yep,” I nodded.
“So what are you two talking about?” Mom asked, walking over as she sat down on the other side of me, nudging my notebook out of the way.
“How my semester's college tuition wouldn't even cover the flight we're taking to Gotham,” Addie responded glibly, falling back into the sofa with a flop.
Mom sighed, pressing a hand to her head. “Dear, please don't remind me. I know Mr. Wayne is paying for all of this, and he gave good reasons, but oh my word I do not want to remember how much money is being spent on us right now.”
“I dunno, it's kind of nice to know what it'll be like once Ardie here hits eighteen and has access to all his money,” Abbie grinned, snaking an arm around my shoulders.
I clicked my tongue and raised my pen off the pad, injecting just a bit of irritation into my voice. “Sis...”
The arm removed itself. “Right, right... no touchy while drawey. Gotcha.”
“Yes, please leave Arden alone while he's working,” Mom sighed. “And, my boy, I hope you don't take this the wrong way given how much I know you look up to Bruce Wayne, but I think it would be better if you took a few lessons on what not to do from the man as well.”
“Same page, Mom,” I assured her, my eyes still on my work as I sketched in a particularly tricky valve before reaching over to pick up my notebook and flashing her a smile. “I'm not really into the idea of frivolous displays of wealth... and I'm not too fond of planes, anyway.”
“Aww...” Addie groaned playfully.
“Besides,” I rolled my eyes, “even if I burned everything I had from stocks and investments and stuff, it wouldn't be enough to buy one of these things, let alone operate it. We're talking fifteen mill for this plane, Addie, used.”
“Oof,” my sister grunted, wincing visibly.
“Well, I suppose that's... good,” Abigail sighed, obviously fighting the urge to complain about money again.
Besides, I could fly under my own power now. And fly well, not just sort of clumsily hover and make short hops a mile or two long. As luxurious as this jet was, I think I'd much prefer to try the crosscontinental flight under my own power. It'd be fun to stress-test some of my abilities, especially now that I knew I was going to be limited to three 'active slots' for the foreseeable future. I needed to get a firmer grasp on what I could do and how hard I could push. My endurance was creeping up as Algernon put me through my paces during morning exercise and the combination of blessings and traits I'd gotten meant I was getting better faster than normal, but...
Nah, let's be honest.
I just wanted to fly around.
Flying was awesome and I liked doing it. There, all the rationale I needed.
Well, that and... I frowned as I remembered the slips of paper in my pocket, guilt bubbling up. Outwardly, I sighed and stowed my pens in their case before setting both my book and sketchpad aside for the moment. “Bathroom break.”
“Oooh, you should try the bath!” Addie grinned widely. “It's amazing!”
“Adelaide Theophania Villin!” Mom called out, and I made my quick escape. That did explain where Addie had disappeared to for a half-hour earlier in the flight. It was a nearly five-hour trip, so... yeah, she could probably justify it.
Also, another reminder why none of us kids used our middle names.
Just another Catholic war crime.
I shook my head and headed over to the toilet, a smaller room that was distinct from the actual bathroom. Unlike my experience with the nasty public toilets on commercial aircraft, this was a full-fledged toilet. With a heated seat. And a bidet. And leg room. And a full sink.
Another reason I hated flying.
I sighed and fished out the papers before dropping my pants.
There were three of them, not just one.
See, Addie and Algie shut down the idea of tearing a curse ticket so hard that I hadn't been able to fully explain how they worked. I don't think it would have helped convince them to approve my use of one, though, so I'd stayed quiet. The only reason I really considered tearing a curse, though, was... well, two reasons, really. The first was that unlike the general random tickets I got for everything, curses let you select a category of ticket to get as compensation for your curse.
So if you wanted a familiar? You could just straight up guarantee you'd get one.
The same with abilities, traits, skills, and items.
So, okay, that was... really good, considering it cut down on a lot of the 'chaos' of the gacha and guaranteed I'd be able to hide the effects of any given pull simply by selecting 'skill.' And I actually preferred skills, honestly. They tended to just add bulk competency, even if they did give me headaches.
But! The other reason why I wanted to try at least one curse was that they let you roll the gacha at advantage. Which meant you got to choose between two different results and take the one you wanted more. Not necessarily the better one, but the one that fit your situation better.
So before we'd gotten on the plane, I'd pulled for a curse and...
Weakness of Metal
-Medium (9)-
"From the moment I understood the weakness of metal, it disgusted me. I craved the ever-changing nature of flesh." Your body naturally and violently rejects any augmentations and implants you try to add to it. Even adding a metal tooth would cause your flesh and body to reject it violently. (Resolve: Acquire 3 or more augment items from the gacha, or acquire 3 or more traits that contradict the curse.)
'Weakness of Metal.' A medium-level curse that rejected any and all forms of augmentation. Straightforward, with limited effects on daily life, and it even had a removal condition. Which... may or may not be a thing with the rest of them, I guess.
And I'd gotten a gold skill ticket out of it.
Because what I really wanted, at this point, was an actual combat skill.
Yeah, I had 'intermediate blunt weapon mastery,' but I couldn't actually do much to integrate that into a fighting style with my current abilities. I mean... I could turn my anytool into a crowbar and beat people up with it, I guess? And I was better at dealing damage with my punches, kicks, and other assorted bodily strikes, but... I was still thirteen.
I was kind of hoping for something that let me hit things at range with fireballs.
Or at least gave me competency with a martial art or more, like... knives or something.
And, now... normally I'd be willing to put that off. I knew I'd probably get a weapon or martial arts skill at some point and, in the meantime, I just wouldn't get into fights. Or, if I got into fights, I'd just choose random non-powered thugs doing crime and generally avoid guns. That's what cops were for, after all!
And if I did run into a thug, I could just grab a random piece of debris and hit them with it. I'm sure metal chairs counted as 'blunt weapons' in a pinch, no wrestling ring required. More likely I'd just grab a piece of discarded lumber or a metal pipe and clobber them with it. Perfectly acceptable self-defense and totally normal as well. No superpowers necessary!
Buuuu~uuuut, I was going to Gotham.
Gotham, for the uninitiated, being a city full of supervillains. Only a few of which possessed beyond-human capabilities, but... Clay Face already existed, I was pretty sure. So did Grundy. And Killer Croc. And Bane.
Which, okay, yeah... I wasn't guaranteed to run into problems I couldn't solve with a steel pipe.
Except that I was, now. I was – very explicitly – a 'protagonist.'
Going to Gotham.
Without a combat skill.
Internal Screaming!
I took a deep breath and held up the two results from my curse compensation.
'Adept Teaching' and 'Expert Polearm Mastery.' Which... uhh, I gotten what I'd wanted, at least? Admittedly, polearms were not my first choice. I'd always been more of a daggers or swords guy. But... well, beggars couldn't be choosers. Adept Teaching was something I'd like to pick up, but... not at the cost of being able to protect myself and my family.
Also, spears were projectile weapons!
And I could make them out of super-hot flames!
I pursed my lips and nodded, holding up the 'Expert Polearm Mastery' and, feeling a bit foolish, spoke aloud in a whisper. “This one. I want this one.”
'Adept Teaching,' in my other hand, crumbled to immaterial dust.
And I felt a surge of knowledge. I took a deep breath.
“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.”
As the verse from Isaiah left my lips, I felt the pain recede and my energy bolster slightly. It wasn't a full heal, not even close, but it was a soothing balm against my soul.
And... just as I felt that, I also felt the curse settle in. Before, where the thought of cybernetics had been 'neat,' they were now disgusting to me personally. 'The weakness of metal,' was apparent. It could not heal, it could not grow, it could not be part of you. The body knew what was of the flesh and what was not. You had to drug yourself into a stupor to overcome that rejection of the artificial, and for what? Some base, animal desperation to live one more day?
What was life when it required cutting out pieces of-
I shuddered. “Jesus-Fuck... okay, no more curses. Ow. I can feel my brain-”
A flare of pain.
I gagged.
I coughed.
My hand went to my mouth... and came away bloody... along with tiny pieces of silver and enamel. My eyes widened and I triggered STIM without a second thought, staggering two steps over to the sink and rinsing my mouth out several times without even bothering to pull up my pants.
Heaving breaths, I look at my pale and wide-eyed face in the mirror.
“Weakness of metal rejected my fillings,” I whispered in realization, shuddering again. “Yeah, no. Fuck this. Curses for life or death situations only. Ugh, if I didn't have STIM...”
I mean, I probably could have numbed the pain with my basic understanding of healing magic, but... yeah, that would have been a bad time.
My shoulders slumped. “Ah... goddammit. Now I can't go back to my dentist. Shit.”
I sighed, deeply, and rinsed the bloody fillings off before drying them with toilet paper and carefully tucking them away. Then I scrubbed my hands, wiped myself, and finally pulled my pants back up before returning to wash my hands one more time, just to make sure.
“Honey, are you okay? You were in there for a while,” Mom spoke up, Addie at her side looking more like a petulant teenager than a defiant adult college student. “Oh, you look pale!”
“I'm fine, just a little motion sickness. Upset my stomach,” I waved her off with forced casualness. “It's been a while since we've flown and I'm not all that used to it.”
Mom looked concerned, but nodded easily enough as Dad – sitting next to Algie at the table – perked up. “You're right... when did we fly last?”
My brother screwed up his face. “Huh... was it Chicago? To visit Grampa and Gramma?”
“That was two years ago,” Mom nodded, her lips pursed. “Maybe we should plan a family vacation this summer? Get everybody together again, with how much Adelaide's away at college?”
“I was thinking about summer classes,” Addie began, then shrugged and rolled her eyes at my Mom's pleading look. “But I guess I can put that off until next year. Where would we go, though?”
“Disney World?” Algie asked, cocking his head and squinting. “That's the one in Florida, right? We did the other one, Disney Land, back... six years ago, right? Seven?”
“Your brother's thirteen now, and he would have been seven... so, six years, yeah,” Dad hummed. “That sounds right.”
I frowned, thinking back to the trip and nodding. It had actually been my first time at the park in either life. I'd been to the one in Florida the last time around, but not this one. And I wouldn't say no to a return trip. At thirteen – and a young-looking thirteen at that – I was still enough of a kid to get away with being excited about 'childish' stuff.
But...
I kind of wanted to go a bit further afield.
“Japan?” I offered up tentatively, drawing looks from the rest of my family as I settled back into my spot with my sketchbook and...
A deep sense of disgust and reject-no, it was more than that. Revulsion. That was it. Looking at these things I'd been creating to defile the human form-
I tamped down on that hard.
“I mean, of course Arden would suggest that,” Algie snorted. “How about somewhere with beaches or something?”
“Iwo Jima has beaches,” I pointed out, hiding a smile as my father perked up at the suggestion, now looking thoughtful.
“Not the kind of beaches I meant, squirt,” Algie sighed.
“Yeah, Algie wants beach volleyball beaches,” Addie smirked, breaking her pouty mood to mock our sibling.
“We could hit the Ogasawara Islands to their north,” I suggested. “Those are tropical. And the place where former CIA Director Bush almost got eaten during World War Two.”
“I remember that!” Archibald grinned, snapping his fingers. “The, ugh... what was it? The Chichijima Incident!”
“I heard tropical islands, so I'm going to assume there are dive spots?” Algie asked, ignoring our father and turning to me.
“Super clear waters with a number of wrecks around the islands you can explore on guided tours,” I nodded, narrowing my gaze at the design in front of me. My lips twisted as I forced my fingers to guide the pen further.
This isn't for me. This isn't for me. The curse doesn't apply because I'm not going to use it!
That helped... somewhat.
But it didn't help that I was hungry now, dammit. I'd gotten past being exhausted by STIM, but it still made me very hungry... my eyes flicked towards the rich-person display of food and drinks Bruce had set out for us. No, I'd get another step in the design done first, then go for food.
“I'd be okay with going to Japan, for what it's worth,” Addie commented. “Things to buy, places to shop, corny family activities to do...”
“Enough, Addie,” Mom sighed, turning towards me as I forced myself through the now-passionless project before me, carefully and methodically. “I don't suppose you've got something in your back pocket to convince me, do you young man?”
I hummed absently. “There are Catholic pilgrimage sites in Japan. Plus martyrs' tombs from when the country outlawed and persecuted Christians. And a bunch of old Catholic churches, like the one they rebuilt in Nagasaki after the war.”
There was a moment of silence as my mother narrowed her eyes at me.
“You'd think we'd have learned not to pick a weird trivia fight with Arden,” Addie commented idly, smirking and raising her fist at my side.
I gave her a quick nod and bumped knuckles with her.
…
We'd landed at one of the smaller private airports serving the city's ultra-wealthy, tucked away in the hills beyond the hustle and bustle of the city proper. Stepping out of the plane and into the afternoon light, I was reminded again of the significant time difference we'd just crossed. A trip that was five hours long had pushed us across two timezones, adding two hours to the trip and putting us landing at six, just before the sun set.
Before me, in the wide expansive view of the western hill country was...
...Gotham.
“Whew, nice plane, but it's good to be back on solid ground,” Algie stated, stretching his arms over his head and making exaggerated steps as he pulled at various muscle groups. Notably, his steps were still all perfectly quiet. “I see what you mean about fly... er, Arden, you okay there?”
I rumbled with a grunt. “I'm fine, brother. Just accommodating the genre change to the gritty and street level violence of a crime-ridden city.”
“Ooooo~kay,” Algie hummed, nodding. “You're being weird again, right. Is this going to be a thing all while we're here or just...”
He waved around to the immediate surroundings.
“This city is a cesspool, Algernon,” I replied, my brooding gaze piercing through the miasma of madness which gripped this metropolis. “It's crying out for a savior and there's only one person who can wrest it free from the deathgrip vice and corruption have on it.”
“...and that's you?” Algie asked.
I blinked. “What? No way. That's Batman's job. I'd burn the entire thing down and start over again somewhere else, salting the very cursed soil this urban cancer once stood upon.”
Algie blinked, shaking his head. “You broke character. Also, there's no way this city is-”
My face remained stoically bland as a great plume of fire and light burst into existence near the city's docks. Sadly, that was far beyond my range, but it looked like it was mostly on the water, so... probably not a huge issue. Hopefully?
I frowned.
“...” Algie's mouth hung open.
“So... weird question, but would you distract the parent for, like... ten minutes?” I asked, squinting at the distance as... yeah, one of the docks was on fire, now.
Dammit.
“Huh?” Algie asked, blinking.
“I'm going to head take a quick flight around the city and hide in the setting sun to put out the dock fire, then circle back around,” I replied, doing my own stretches.
“...you know what? Sure,” Algie sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Since this place apparently works on your crazy logic, anything I should watch out for?”
“You're on guard duty for the parents,” I informed him, looking around for somewhere to flame on and transform. “If someone comes up and attacks them, get away or hit them with a – you know what? Here.”
Algie blinked at the belt clip I handed to him. “What?”
“Turn it into a crowbar and smack someone if they try to attack you,” I explained.
My brother clicked his tongue, turned towards the fire in the distance, and slumped a little more. We both knew he wasn't going to be able to tell me to not go. People were in danger and I wasn't going to fight crime. Just put out a fire.
“I think I get why you wanted to hide out like a hermit in the mountains instead of coming here,” Algie sighed.
“Yep,” I nodded, paused. “You see anywhere that the security is weak? Like, no surveillance?”
My brother blinked, startled, and looked around. “Huh, yeah... over there.”
“Thanks! Be right back! Tell the parents I went to the bathroom,” I stated, setting off at a jog and pulling out my ‘angel’ hoodie for good measure. Sunglasses, too. I was, after all, a protagonist now. I had to be prepared for this bullshit.
~~~
Turns out I wanted to do some more Butler Boy. At least I got to Gotham before the new year this way.
Anyway, I'm going to be working on getting out the last chapter of 2025 next. Trying real hard for that to be Industrious, hopefully. Looking at the updates... I should actually do a Naruto-side one. I think I can manage that in a few days.
Hmm...
Well, I hope everyone enjoys the new chapter!
Arden's certainly stepped in it coming to Gotham, and it's going to be a very eventful trip!
Comments
Slayer Anderson
Blunt weapon mastery was at *Novice* level. The skill he got was at *Expert* level. So, yes, a substantial increase in raw non-powered combat ability.
Ceifeiros
Rolled a curse and didn't even get anything to help him in combat did he? He already had blunt mastery, if he can make a fire spear, surely he could make a fire hammer or something. Plus his multi-tool as he already pointed out.
Big ToFu
That was very dumb of him, very bad impulse control
Taye
Really, Slayer. Really? Why do you do this to us? We get to Gotham, and cue cliffhanger.
Slayer Anderson
He got the curse before they left the ground, which is in the text, but I guess I’ll need to add a bit on that part, since it seems to be confusing. You’re not the first to ask about it.
Arkos Sloth
I think the naturally malleable brain chemistry of a teenage brain is having g an effect on Arden's decision making because rolling for the potential curse in the air was not the brightest move. At least we can look forward to plot progression now. Thanks for posting. I hope you had a Merry Christmas.
