Bubbajack
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Amped up Ch. 2 (Unedited)
🕑 Added 2024-05-18 02:53:54 +0000 UTCAmped up!
By: Bubbajack
Editors/Co-authors: Icysnowsage, First Hassan, Antagonist, and LoamyCoffee
Special Consultant: Heliosion
Special thanks go out to my Super Donors: Alexander Murry, Ben wanless, Blacksanta557, Bobby Glass, Jareth Norris, and Kenni Neilsen my first ever Supreme Tier Donor.
Ch. 1-2: Bender.
‘Fight the POWAH!’ Blasto, Boston's one and only plant-based eco-friendly Tinker and anarchist thought as he hammered away on his keyboard, extolling the virtues of Anarchism and putting down The Man on PHO like he always did.
Tin Mother: Blasto this is your final warning! If you go on another tangient I’ll ban you for a week!
Blasto (Verified Cape): Government Oppression! See people? Do you see now? They don’t want you to know the truth! That Bob Barker is a Russian Spy, Barbie is a white savior stereotype, Soylent Green is People, and the Scion is an Alien! Do not be silenced! Rise up! Against your oppressors! Rise up today lest you find yourselves in chains tomorrow!
Blasto (Verified Cape) has been given a week long suspension. Suspension ending in 6d 23hrs 59mins 57secs.
“Fools all of them!” Blasto said as he slammed his fists down on his keyboard. “Why won’t they open their eyes and see that they are being controlled? That The Man is controlling everything? From the hidden cabal distributing powers to the eye of providence! Lovecraft knew! He saw it all! He was providence! He knew of the horrific things out in the void of space would see us one day but did we listen… NO! And now… now it's far too late…” Turning to the green glowing vat in the center of the room Blasto walked over and placed his hand on it at the thing floating within. “But, if they won’t listen, then I’ll need to make them see…”
Suddenly the reinforced door to Blasto’s lab was kicked in, the metal tearing off its hinges, and something… someone loomed in the darkness of his hallway.
Pointing at the unknown figure Blasto called out, “Who are you? Are you with the MIB? Have you come to try and neutralize me? I’ll have you know. I’m immune!”
“Umm, no… you know that’s just an Alph movie franchise right?” The youngish sounding voice called back sounding utterly flummoxed.
“That’s exactly what they want you to think!” Blasto called back. “Now step into the light where I can see you… unless you're some kind of Eldritch Horror from the void of space and the dream realms, in which case please stay where you are for the sake of my sanity.”
‘What sanity?’ Greg thought to himself as he stood in the shadow of Blasto’s underground bunker’s entrance. ‘Are we sure we wanna recruit this guy? He seems nuttier than a Payday bar.’
‘As much as I hate the Yankie tea toddling bastard, he’s got a point. Blastie’s gone round the bend. He’s a right bellend.’ The OG Butcher noted.
‘That’s rich coming from you Billie.’ Wee Hughie noted.
‘Ah pish off Hughie ah did wot I had tae dae. No more no less aye? You still going on about havin’ ta do me in?’ Billy Butcher complained.
‘Considering it ended with both of us being stuck with each other for eternity? Yes. I’m still pissed about it Billy!’ Hughie replied.
‘Okay, okay… so yer stuck wit me, but it can’t be all bad right? Ah mean we’re not alone aye?’ Billie
‘We’re stuck with other murderous psychopaths who are forced to control a gang you created… it all sucks.’
‘I’m sorry to interrupt your lover's quarrel, but I could use some advice on how to handle crazy!’ Greg shot back.
‘Firstly, fuck you!’ Billy shouted, ‘An’ secondly when it comes to crazy in my experience… where there’s a hole, there’s a goal. The crazy one’s especially were usually down for ana-’
Greg cut him off, “No, no I’m not dealing with your shit right now. Back to your room Billy…” Once his cursing faded away he asked, “Now, any good advice?”
‘Maybe don’t talk to yourself like a crazy person?’ Wee Hughie began, pointing out the obvious.
Greg sighed, but nodded, ‘Fair, what else?’
Take your helmet off perhaps?’ Edgemaster offered.
Over the past couple of days, Greg had been using Edgemasters ability. It was an incredibly versatile Tinker ability that let him create just about anything… The only weakness it had were getting some of the more esoteric materials. His Aunt Jenny however blessed her soul, let him use any bits and bobbles he wanted in her art studio… as long as he promised that whatever he made was meant for defense of his person… Naturally, the Butchers defined ‘defense of his person’ as ‘murder anything that tries to hurt us’ Greg however tried to stay closer to the spirit of his promise. It was his aunt after all.
He had made a blackened suit of heavy armor, the head in the shape of a Wolverine of all things with its lower jaw acting as a gorget. This armor, the Berserker Armor according to Edgemaster, had two functions. Fuel the wearer with hatred, block out all sense of pain, allow the surpassing of human limits, and keep the person wearing it running at all costs… usually via metal spikes inserted into the body. This however was a win-win for Greg as he already couldn’t feel pain, and the butchers ran on rage to begin with, so he was at least partially inoculated to it.
While on his back was a massive heap of iron too big, too thick, and too unwieldy to be called a sword. The Dragonslayer. It was meant to do what it said on the tin. Slay a dragon. Only it takes someone with super strength to use it. Greg could use it one-handed even without the Berserker Armor in effect. Though he began to feel it after several hours of practice. With the armor in full effect, it felt like he was swinging around a feather.
All in all Greg looked like the most terrifying Butcher yet.
‘Is it smart to reveal my identity to someone who could rat me out at a moment’s notice though?’
‘Hell no it's bloody well not.’ Firecracker replied. ‘Listen kid, you go in there and tell the flowerchild wanker your hirin’ em he’ll be over the moon your not here to off his ass… Just make sure you lay out for ‘im in no uncertain terms that he’s not to use Spree as a test subject and everyone’ll get along great savvy?’
‘Right, I can do that…’ Greg decided. Stepping into the sickly greenish light of the mad scientist's lab Greg spoke in an ominous growl, saying something that would secure him an alliance but get him heckled by the Butcher’s later. “Blasto, I’m here to bargain.”
Peeking out from between his fingers, the mad scientist was muttering, “Ai, Cthulhu, Ai, Dagon! Ai Mother Hydra!” all while drawing some weird pentacle around himself in chalk. “Hey wait a minute… you're the Haunter in the Dark! Nor the Dweller on the Threshold!”
Greg shook his head, “No… I am not an incarnation of Nyarlathotep… I’m Butcher XV.”
Blasto looked momentarily disappointed, frowning he said, "Oh so you're just here to mercilessly turn my mortal coil into crimson mist and red paste carry on then.”
“You seem… oddly okay with being killed?” Greg said.
“Death is but a pittance compared to what the Black Pharaoh could do to my soul for all of eternity!” Blasto replied cheerily. “So are you going to make with the murder or?”
“Actually, I kinda wanted to recruit you to join the Teeth?” Greg said feeling awkward.
Blasto’s eyes lit up. “Really?! Does this mean I can finally-”
Greg cut him off. “No, you can’t experiment on Spree.”
“Aww,” Blasto pouted. “But he has perfectly good biomatter that’s just going to waste! His clones would make great fertilizer for my protein vats!” Blasto pointed to said vat in question.
Greg looked at it. “So you fill your vats with DNA, plant matter and then…”
“Yes, yes! But more proteins are needed for the process which is where Spree could come in handy. Do you have any idea how big my grocery bills are?! How much meat I have to buy to maintain my vats?”
Considering each of those tubes in front of him were about the size of a fully grown adult and there were six of them… yeah he could guess. “Okay. Blasto I think we can come to an arrangement.” A cheshire cat-like grin began to spread across the Tinkers face, only for Greg to say, “However if your coming with us you’d better pack a bag, we’ll be leaving soon.”
“Leaving?!” This surprised him. “Where to… boss?”
“Brockton Bay… in about a week,”
Blasto bounced on the balls of his feet. “Does this mean I finally get to make a clone of Lung? Can I dissect Oni Lee if we can get a hold of him?”
“Uhh…’ Greg considered complaining about blasto doing that to Oni Lee… but then he remembered it was Oni Lee who was a merry little suicide bomber. “Sure, but I’m not promising that.”
“I’ll take what I can get. But if we’re leaving in a week I’ll need to get packing! Which means you need to leave! Out! Out! I’ve got things to do and hard drives to throw in microwaves!” He said as he began shoving Butcher XV towards his destroyed pressurized bolthole door.
“Umm, right, sorry. So do you want me to send some guys over to help you pack or?”
“And risk them breaking my precious equipment? Perish the thought! I’ll handle it myself. Just have Spree send me the date and time of the meet up and I’ll be there.” Blasto finished as he shoved Greg out the door.
I’ll do that,” the bewildered teen replied as the Tinker tried and failed to shut the door behind him sighing in annoyance before giving up.
As Greg thought of aunt Jenny’s place and began to teleport he thought to himself ‘That went better than expected.’
‘You let a fucking nerd manhandle you, what kinda Butcher are you man?’ The OG asked derisively.
‘One of a kind,’ Greg shot back before he disappeared completely.
(...)
Accord was a man of detail.
Everything had to be just right. Not a thing out of place.
All the gears and mechanisms must be at the peak efficiency. Now if only his contemporaries outside of his Ambassadors who knew the ins and outs of his personality would be as reasonable as to just follow in line with his ideas. So many of them have been thwarted by the PRT, Blasto, other rogues, and most especially the Teeth. The Teeth had been a thorn in accords side for years. They just couldn’t be reasoned with, the savages. In Accord's view, the world was broken. But he had a plan. He knew how to fix it. He could fix it. But he couldn't do it alone. He needed help. The problem was nobody wanted to listen! It was infuriating dealing with people who didn't want to fix the problem. Savages, the lot of them. The world was like a broken pocket watch, an intricate piece of machinery that was broken and now not working properly. He knew how to fix it, but nobody would let him. Too much time, they said. Too much money, too much manpower. Bah, they were fools, the lot of them. If they didn't fix the problem soon, it would lead to complete societal collapse. It was already happening right before their eyes, even though they failed to see it. We could already hardly get goods transferred to where they needed to go thanks to the end bringers. Simurgh controlled the skies. Leviathan dominated the seas, and Behemoth could destroy overland transportation overnight if he so chose. Something had to be done, and soon before everything collapsed out from underneath them and anarchy reigned. ‘It would be a disorderly, chaotic mess.’ Thought to himself, grinding his teeth behind his mask,’ He hated messes. They were so… Disorderly.
There was suddenly a knock at his door, one that was familiar to Accord. “Yes, Citrine. What is it?”
Moments later, a woman wearing a Golden Rod Gold Ball gown, and a Masquerade Mask studded with citrines, walked into the room carrying a sheaf of papers. This was Citrine, Accord's favored among the Ambassadors. She walked swiftly but with purpose to his desk. A frown crossed her yellow painted lips as She said, “Sir, we have some news. News concerning the Teeth.”
“What are those Bloody savages up to now cannibalizing corpses?” Accord asked with obvious distaste.
Citrine shook her head in response, “No, Sir. From what our spies report, it seems that they are aiming to move out of Boston. There's been a flurry of activity in the hotel of late. More than just your standard RAID. They are too active for that. From what our spies can estimate and the reports I have here, it seems like the teeth are moving out of Boston. Possibly long term, maybe permanently.”
Motioning for the documents she had in her hand, Accord looked them over swiftly. “This could be big, Very big.”
Citrine nodded. “I agree, Sir. That's why I brought these to you as quickly as I could. But the fact remains, what should we do?”
After contemplating the situation for a moment, Accord replied. “Nothing. If the Teeth want to leave, we leave them alone and let them. But we need to be ready to absorb their territory once they're gone. We need to move hard and fast once that happens to prevent Blasto from pulling anything crazy.”
“About Blasto, Sir, I've received reports from our other spies we have on him that he might be packing up to move as well, possibly joining forces with the Teeth.”
Accord's articulated mask grinned, “If that's the case, then all the better. More space for us to expand and take over for ourselves, wouldn't you agree, Citrine?”
Citrine gave a brisk nod of the head. “Of course, Sir. Shall I keep the spies in place for now in the Teeth and both Blasto’s general area?”
Accord nodded, “Yes, do that. They can easily slip away during the chaos of the Teeth’s grand exodus. And while we're doing that, I need you to quietly gather our forces together to take over their soon to be vacant territory.”
“Consider it done, Sir.”
“Excellent Citrine. That will be all. I need to plan. To put this new information into our plans and adjust things accordingly.”
I'll leave you to it, Sir. Excuse me. I'll make the preparations for things now.” Citrine replied, before excusing herself and leaving her boss to do what he did best. To plan.
(...)
Greg nervously slammed the back of his family's van shut. Their bags had been packed and set in the back. Today was game day. Everything was either going to go off without a hitch or go up in flames. He was personally hoping for the latter rather than the former, But he knew that no plan survives contact with the enemy. But all he could really do was hope for the best as he got in the back seat, buckled up and prepared for a two hour drive back to Brockton Bay. As he got in, he checked his burner phone and sent a text.
Greg: How are we doing on time, Spree?
Spree: Looking good, boss. We'll be right on time Boss.
Shiro: Whaa! I miss you already, Greg! XXXXXX.
Greg: Love you too, Shiro, but focus on getting to Brockton Bay in one piece and not getting killed.
Shiro: They can't kill me, lover boy. I'm too awesome! :)
Spree: I'll bury you under corpses if you don't get back to work. Get laid on your own time. Right now, we're on the clock.
Shiro: You're no fun at all, Spree. You've become quite the task master ever since Greg gave you that pocket watch.
Spree: If I'm the Lt. I need to start acting like it. Now get back to work.
Shiro: Fine. See you later, Greg kisses. XXXX!
‘Wow,’ Greg thought to himself. ‘Shiro sure is a handful. And somehow she's head over heels for me. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, considering she's a bit of a basket case.’
“Well, my Mama always said never to stick my Wick in crazy. But you do, you kid.” The OG butcher commented.
‘Thanks Billy, wasn't really asking for your advice but thanks,’ Greg shot back Only to be distracted by his Aunt Jenny tapping on his window. Rolling the window down, he said, “Hey Aunt Jenny, what's up?”
“Just thought I'd see you off with some words of encouragement and a warning,” Jenny said, leaning in to give her favorite and only nephew a hug. As she embraced him, she asked in a whisper. “Are you sure you know what you're doing? Bringing the teeth back to Brockton with you?”
“Well, I'd be a very irresponsible gang leader if I just left them here, wouldn't I?” he replied back.
Holding him at arm's length, Jenny gave him a sardonic look and told him, “Greg, They’re a group of murderous killers, not a band of disobedient puppies.”
“There's really not that much of a difference between them from what I've seen. They just need to be properly trained and have some positive reinforcement.”
Jenny couldn't believe what she was hearing, “What? So when they do something you don't like, they're going to get squirty squirts or something?”
“If that's what it takes, yeah, sure.” Greg replied completely seriously.
After a moment, Jenny said, “That is so stupidly crazy it might just work… On Shiro, at least.”
“I'll start with her as a test case and see how well it works on the others.” Greg decided, nodding to himself.
“Ah, that reminds me one more thing, kiddo,” His aunt told him, getting his attention again. “You might be seeing more of me sooner than you think.”
“Aunt Jenny… what did you do?” Greg asked with suspicion heavy in his tone.
Grinning at him, she replied, “I told my agent I needed to go on a journey to find myself to get more inspiration for art and my first stop is going to be Brockton Bay.”
“He actually bought that shit excuse?” Greg asked, flabbergasted.
Jenny nodded, “Ate it like a fly on a poo poo platter,” Before continuing, She ruffled his hair playfully. “So you're going to be stuck with me for a while, kiddo, and someone has to keep an eye on you and all your extracurricular activities.”
“You could have just outed me to mom and dad, you know?” Greg pointed out.
Jenny rolled her eyes, “Yeah, right. Like that would have worked. We both know it wouldn't, so I'm going to take responsibility for you because you are still a teenage child.”
Greg's first response was to feel a little bit offended that his aunt was treating him like a kid.But then again, he was a kid and it was nice to have someone in his corner who was actually an adult.
“Ohh wee Gweegie’s Auntie is looking after him.” Billy cooed mockingly.
‘Go to your room, Billy!’ Greg thought harshly as he shoved the first butcher into his personal suite in the makeshift hotel in his head.
“I think it's sweet how your aunt dots on you like this. She's got guts. Balls of steel for a woman moxie. It's damn respectable.” Quarrel commented.
‘How come she gets praise and I get shit from you?’
“Because she's not trying to deflower the closest thing I've ever had to a daughter,” Quarrel, replied hotly.
‘Fair,’ Gred conceded. ‘We've got a 2 hour drive ahead of us, so let's try to get along. I've got some audiobooks on my MP3 player. Anybody have any suggestions?’
“Murder Mystery?” Edgemaster suggested.
‘Sounds good, let's do it.’ And that was how they ended up listening to Murder on the Orient Express all the way back to Brockton.
(...)
Greg was glad to get out of the back of the van after two hours and gave a nice long stretch that popped his spine. Grabbing the bags from the back, he entered the house before his parents did. Taking the key from the fake rock in the flower bed out front before unlocking the front door. Their house was nothing extravagant compared to his aunt's place, but it was still nice. It may need a fresh cone of paint come summer. But it was a nice place, a single story ranch house, And from Gregg's window near the front, he could see the Bay And there was usually a nice breeze coming off the ocean every day. His dad usually walked to work and left the car with his mom as she was a nurse at the nearby Brockton General Hospital.
Dropping his bag in the doorway of his room. He sighed to himself and said. “It's good to be home.”
“Nerd!” Billy yelled, ruining his moment.
It was true, though, if anyone could be considered a Cape nerd, Greg Veder fit that description perfectly. He had notebooks filled with notes on capes, split by their classification. Posters of various capes that he liked from the Protectorate lined his walls, and his laptop lay on his desk directly in front of his door. To his left there was a window that opened to the street, And on the left was his bed and a dresser And closet not too far from there.
Crossing his wooden floor, He his tossed his travel bag on the ground and as he flopped on the bed, said “Shut up Billy, I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now.”
‘We did it guys we got back home in one piece!’ He thought happily.
“Now to become King of the Bloody Pirates!” Firecracker cheered.
‘Cracker, dude, that was a lame joke even from you!’ Greg replied even as he laughed regardless.
“I blame you for getting me addicted to that damn comic!” Firecracker complained half heartedly.
‘It’s called a manga you heathen!’ Greg shot back. ‘Should I go out on patrol to see what I can find?’
“We do need a base to house the family, so you could scout around.” Edgemaster suggested.
“If we can find out where that Coil cunt is hiding we could take his place?” Septic threw in his two cents. “He only uses merc’s armed with Tinker Tech right?”
‘Yeah but no one knows where he is, and he controls all of Downtown, he’s the most… enigmatic of the thugs around here, and the one to be the most cautious of for that very reason.’ Greg pointed out before he used the Don’s ability to ‘ping’ the location of the Teeth. By his reckoning, they were about an hour out. And according to the ping they were all probably bunched up in several vehicles and moving fast. You didn't get a sense of unease coming from anyone, so nobody was planning to betray him any time soon. That was good to know. Instead, he got feelings of eagerness, hope, unease and uncertainty. Like that of children coming home after a long time away and not sure how to act. ‘All to be expected really. They are children coming home after a long time away.’ Greg thought to himself. ‘And now, because I'm the newest Butcher, I have to act like a parent to all these oversized children.’ Sighing to himself. Greg went over to one of his Travel bags and donned the Berserker armor. If he was going to do this, he may as well do it properly. So thinking. You hollered to his folks. “I'm going to go out for a bit!” Before grabbing the Dragon Slayer, and teleporting out of his room.
(...)
In a sudden flash of flame, Greg found himself on top of the dollhouse that was owned by Parian. ‘So I'm on the Boardwalk.’ The latest incarnation of the Butcher thought to himself as he looked around. Not seeing any crime or anything of the like taking place, he jumped off the building and landed with a dull thud in the alleyway between The Dollhouse and a Starbucks. Placing the Dragon Slayer in an oversized sword frog on his back, Greg stepped out of the alleyway and walked down the street. Naturally, his appearance got attention, which got people taking pictures and all sorts of other things. He imagined speculation threads and various videos of him walking down the Boardwalk would be the highlight of PHO at the end of the day. This is exactly what he wanted, though he would be the smokescreen. While he drew attention to himself, the rest of the teeth would be able to slip into Brockton Bay, unsuspected.
As he walked down the Boardwalk street, Greg saw a familiar group of capes approaching. Leading the pack was an armored knight with glowing bits and pieces everywhere. Next to him was a boy in a latex suit Covered in clock designs. Clinging to the knight's free arm and floating several inches off the ground with a blonde bombshell of a girl in a white leotard with a tiara in her golden locks. And trailing behind those three Was a girl with mousy brown hair in a makeshift Medics outfit. Bringing up the rear was the youngest of the bunch. A girl who could probably be no older than 13, Her blonde hair cut to about chin length, wearing a green visor over her eyes, in a turtle shell green uniform that ended in a skirt with swirl designs and thigh high green boots.
‘Of all the people I had to bump into It had to be Gallant, Glory Girl, Panacea, Clock Blocker, and Vista.’ It's not like he hated them or anything. It's just of all the people he had to bump into, it was the fucking empath. If Gallant got a read on him right now, of all times, his plans to move the Teeth into Brockton Bay would end before they could even begin. ‘And of all the people who probably have a chance to take me down, it's the group right in front of me.’ Greg mused. ‘Clockblocker’s, ability is the All or Nothing type. Vista can literally keep me out of range no matter what. Glory Girl hits about as hard as I do at this point, I think. And Panacea is Panacea. All right everyone, I need all hands on deck for this one. Either suggest something useful or keep your damn trap shut.’
“Just play it cool, kid. Don't let them see you sweat. And whatever you do, don't talk to us out loud next to the Empath” The Don advised.
“If you need to make a quick escape. You could always use my power to rot a hole in the floor. I mean, it is a boardwalk. Melting through wood is nothing.” Septic, said, offering up a quick suggestion for a fast getaway if needed.
‘I thought your powers only worked on wounds.’ Greg asked, suddenly confused.
“Define ‘wound’,” Septic retorted, “If you ‘wound’ the environment, you can make the wound worse.”
‘Good point. I'll keep that in my back pocket.’ Greg silently agreed.
Bark chipped in his two cents, “Maybe offer the girl's flowers. Girls like flowers, right?”
‘That’s… not a half bad idea Bark.’ Greg replied after a moment. ‘Good job.’
“Yeah, no problem. I don't usually get to use my powers this… Harmlessly. So this’ll be nice for a change of pace.” Butcher XII said casually.
‘Bark, you actually just gave me an idea… To use for later, but still an idea.’ Greg thought gratefully to the senior Butcher. Right now, he had to focus. He had some heroes to schmooze. “Ladies, Gentleman… and Clockblocker.”
“Well, he must be a native if he knows not to call you a gentleman Clock.” Vista said, chuckling behind her hand.
“Hey, leave the goofing off in costume to the professionals. I have a PhD in stupidity and I am not afraid to use it.”
Cocking his head to the side, Greg replied, “If that’s the case shouldn't you have named yourself Jester instead of Clockblocker?”
In response, Clockblocker opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, raised a finger, and closed his mouth. “I can't think of a good comeback.”
“Clockblocker. Speechless? I never thought I'd see the day.” Vista said as she looked up and down in the sky.
“What are you looking for, Vista?” Gallant asks, confused by her behavior but the amusement showed up all the same in his tone.
“The flying pig, of course.” The youngest, Ward replied, as if it should be obvious.
Everyone, even Greg and Clockblocker burst out laughing at that one. Finally, all eyes were on Greg and Gallant took the lead Of the conversation, “I’m Gallant of the Brockton Bay Wards. But I'm assuming you've heard of me? Are you a new Cape in the area?”
“You could say I'm new to the area, yeah.” Greg responded. Wasn't a lie. He was a new Cape to the area. Since he wasn't a Cape the last time he was in town.
Gallant made his sales pitch, “Would you be interested at all in joining the wards? If you're old enough, that is. Or maybe the PRT directly?”
“No thanks. Not interested. Not a big fan of the government,” Greg responded honestly. “Maybe I'll start liking the government more when they stop taxing my taxes that they already put tax on.”
“I see. Well, if you ever change your mind, I'm pretty sure you can figure out where to find us.”
Greg looked out across the Bay where the floating fortress that was PRT North-Northeast sat In the air, behind a force field and God knows what else. “Yeah, I don't think I'll have any trouble finding you guys if I need to. Though I imagine getting pizza delivered is quite a pain.”
“Dude, you have no idea!” Clock blocker complained. “Last time I tried to have a pizza delivered to the rig. I almost got grounded for a month. No clock blocker. You can't have pizza delivered to a secure government facility. Blah blah blah risks blah blah blah regulations blah blah blah pay cut. I stopped listening to the director after about five minutes of her ranting and only really cared about the pay cut.”
“And that is why she hates you so much, Clock. And yet you wonder why.” Vista said with a long, drawn out sigh.
“The director doesn't hate me, does she? She hates everybody equally. Her body subsists on hatred like a baby does on breast milk. At least that's what I've always thought. Like the reason she keeps going is because of hatred, piss, and vinegar that runs through veins like a normal person does blood. Right?” Clock Blocker said this like he truly believed it and expected everyone else to believe it too. Like it was supposed to be common knowledge.
“Some days I truly wonder.” Panacea said, speaking up for the first time. “What?” She said, seeing she got the mysterious capes attention.
“Surprised to see you outside the hospital. Thought you lived there Or something I thought you might have fused with the building and some sort of hybrid symbiosis.”
“No, not yet, but it's a close thing at this point.” Amy snarked back.
Victoria then buttered into the conversation.“I keep telling her she needs to get out more. Maybe get a boyfriend or a hobby that doesn't involve healing people 24/7. What do you think, Ames? Maybe get a hobby? Maybe grow plants. You like plants, right?”
Amy gave a noncommittal grunt combined with a shrug, “I don't dislike flowers, I guess?”
‘Showtime.’ Greg thought to himself before he used Bark's powers to reach out to a nearby flower stand and cause everything to bloom rapidly, even though they shouldn't be able to even do that. A massive vines made their way down the street.Twisting together and forming a giant flower in front of him before.Budding off and blooming right in front of Amy, Victoria and Vista. “For the ladies.”
“Well, a gentleman. I thought those were getting rather rare in the world.” Vicky said, smiling as she picked half a dozen roses off this strange new plant.
“Thanks I guess… No one's ever given me flowers before.” Vista said as she picked a couple sunflowers.
“So your power is plant manipulation, but you are wearing a metal suit?” Gallant, who was annoyed at the fact that this unknown parahuman was blatantly flirting with his girlfriend in front of him, asked.
“I never said my power was plant manipulation.”
“But we just saw you-” Clock blocker began only to Be cut off by the unknown Cape.
“Yes, you just saw me manipulate plants, but I never said that was the only thing I could do. Or that that was the only facet of my powers,” Deciding to show off a little more, Greg went over to a bag of charcoal And tore out a few pieces, Before crushing them in his hands. When he removed them, he was holding several large diamonds, Which he then looped through plant fiber. and hand it to each girl.
‘OK, I have to ask, how did you do that?’ Bark inquired.
‘I used Stone Ages ability on coal. It's not that hard, really.’ Greg replied as if it was second nature. It was really obvious if you thought about it.
“Dang, kid’s a genius. All this time we could have been filthy rich. Instead of living in a broken down hotel. Does anyone else feel really stupid right now?” Spymaster. Asked the rest of the group.
A resounding chorus of yes, and aye’s rang out amongst the mental collective of butchers. But from Stone Age especially. It was his power, after all.
“You better up your game, Gallant,” Glory Girl said teasingly. “If he keeps this up. I might just leave you for him.”
Gallant laughed, but there was no humor in his voice when he did so. “Right, well we should be going, it was nice meeting you.”
The knight, clad in black, nodded. “You too. See you around maybe.”
“Oh, if our boss is asked what? What's your name? Uh I mean your Cape name?” Clockblocker of all people remembered to ask him.
Thinking quickly, Greg replied, “I don't have one yet. I was more focused on the costume and the powers. But if you have to call me something, then I guess you can call me Rebis.”
Clock Blocker shrugged, “Weird name, but I'll let him know. See you around, man.”
Little did Greg know, he'd made a few friends, a couple acquaintances, and at least one enemy in this one interaction. There would be plenty more to follow.
(...)
Word count. 6000. Number of pages: 18. Date completed: 5/1/2024.
(...)
AN: Hello everyone and welcome to Chap 2 of Amped Up! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. I look forward to hearing from you all in reviews and comments and whatnot. Remember to follow and favorite and I'll see you all next time. But before I go I’d like to introduce my two new extra editors. Antagonist_Writer and LoamyCoffee. Say hello guys. Now here's Snowy, Hassan Antagonist and Loamy Coffee to finish things off.
Snowy:
Hassan:
Antagonist
Loamy:
Thanks again for reading. This has been an Inkblot Bro’s Production. Peace.
(Greg comes back to school from the holidays and goes to Winslow where he gets bullied by a gang or sophia. Only for Shiro to show up and Greg has to stop her from murdering Sophia. Afterwards Sophia hears a warning about an influx of gang members going missing or ending up dead. She gets ambushed by the teeth to take their pound of flesh).
Comments
Ice fox
please sir may we have some more???
Swordcollector45
Aww is gallant gonna be his enemy because he was being nice to the girls boo hoo gallant
Bishop7053
Bringing blasto to brockton, how can that not go wrong with Piggot in charge. Time for ptsd. The teeth are only going to make it worse, but I am intrigued
