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Gacha God: Laying Low (ch. 27)
🕑 Added 2023-05-27 14:59:28 +0000 UTC"Sebastian. Please don't steal Captain America's shield. Please," Peter instantly began to beg me, looking insanely worried. "He's like… a cultural icon, dude. And his shield is like his entire identity."
Ned was nodding while we kicked our feet up in the command room. I was taking stock of the entire situation -- unsurprisingly, there were a lot of people freaking out about my fight with Tony. A lot of people were upset too. People were calling me out, they were calling out the Avengers -- it was hilarious to see, especially when I started fanning the flames with a little VS trolling. Was pretty weird that people thought I could 1v1 Thor, though. Like, in what fucking universe?
"Yeah! Sebastian, he punched Hitler. Hitler. Melting down his shield is like… destroying an historical artifact. It'd be like melting down the Statue of Liberty! You wouldn't melt the Statue of Liberty, would you?" Ned followed up while I dumped some gas on an internet war that was brewing.
"You see, I know the answer you want to that question is 'No, I would not melt down the Statue of Liberty to make wheels for my ATs.' However, I absolutely would. Full stop. No hesitation," I told them, laughing at how betrayed they looked.
"Dude. That's… so unpatriotic," Peter pointed out. Maybe, but technically speaking, I wasn't really an American. I just admired the culture of not giving a single fuck about anyone's culture, especially American culture. It was pretty great. "What… what if we found more vibranium? Then you wouldn't need to melt it down, right? Right?!"
I paused typing a reply to some guy calling me an idiot for thinking that Iron Man could beat Captain America, looking at both of them. They were really attached to someone else's stuff. "I've already set my heart on stealing the shield. I want it as a trophy. But… I guess I won't need to melt it down if you find more vibranium. Good luck finding more of it, though. S'not like it's not one of the rarest minerals in the universe, or anything," I pointed out, making Peter and Ned high five in relief. Goodness gracious, it was just a shield.
One made out of vibranium, sure, but the fact that it was told me all I needed to know about the dangerous effects of putting lead in gas. Because metric shit tons of brain damage was the only reasonable explanation why anyone would turn that much of such extremely rare and useful metal into a frisbee. And I still couldn't get over the fact that Shield decided to name themselves after that frisbee.
"It should be possible! This thing has scanners, you know? I think with a little finagling, I could enable them to scan the planet for certain frequencies -- like vibranium," Peter explained, sounding like he was asking for permission and I nodded. It sounded useful, and if he thought it would help the shield, then sure. Plus, I could always just keep the shield as a trophy. I'm sure that the Avengers would try to get it back, but that sounded entertaining on its own even without the prospect of getting more cool stuff.
"How long would that take?" I asked, and Peter scratched at his cheek.
"A week? Maybe more? It's mostly fine-tuning the parameters. The scanners are meant for the teleporter, after all, so there won't be any hardware upgrades to worry about." A week? That was fine with me.
"Sounds good. It gives us some time to mess around with what I learned -- did you know we got tripped up in a criminal conspiracy?" I asked them, earning owlish blinks in response. "Yeah, that guy -- what was his name?"
"Leland?" Ned offered, going to his computer to go over his notes.
"Yeah, him -- he said that we were targeting this kingpin guy, who Black Cat is after. Apparently he had connections to that Quinn guy, and the Russians," I explained and Peter took a seat.
"Cooool," he breathed before we both looked at Ned.
He didn't seem to see the connections. "Leland is a money guy. He's a money guy for a lot of people. Tully was one of them," Ned said, catching my interest. Was? He tilted his screen to show a headline and Peter paled when he read it. 'Billionaire capitalist found dead of suicide.' Tully was dead? That absolute prick -- he made me waste all that effort only to get himself murdered? What an asshole. "He was found dead just after you went to talk to Leland, and around that same time, all of his offshore assets started to be moved around to other accounts. Ones that I don't have access to, but I know where they are."
Huh. "It couldn't be Leland since he was busy with me," I pointed out. Was it this kingpin fella?
"I don't know who did it," Ned admitted. "I can learn though, it'll just take a little time. When I see the money moving again, I can learn where it's going. And that'll tell me who is using it. Until then, though," he shrugged, telling me that it was out of his hands.
The trolling forgotten, I pursed my lips, "Leland mentioned a criminal named Cottonmouth. I know he runs Harlem. He got recruited after we took down the Russians," I said, making Ned's eyes widen as he began to do some research. Peter, however, sent a frown in my direction.
"Are you sure you should be investigating this? Audacity is pretty wanted right now." He pointed out, and Ned nodded.
"Five star wanted," he agreed. "
"And your face… don't you think you should lay low?" Peter asked me, sounding worried for me.
He wasn't wrong. I always knew that I was going to get caught, but he didn't. I-
You have earned a roll!
- Gem Cat (The Mech Touch)
- Hand of Midas (Dota 2)
- Firebolt Broom (Harry Potter)
- Blackhowl (Hawk and Fisher)
- Sukuna's Fingers (Jujutsu Kaisen)
- Ring of Khajiiti (Elder Scrolls)
- Falcon's Eye (Xiao Lin Showdown)
- Crazy Quilt (MÄR)
- Death Penalty (FF7-Dirge of Cerberus)
- Belt of Giant Strength (DnD)
- Pika Pika no Mi (One Piece)
- No Face May King (Fate)
- Garo's Mask (Zelda)
- Iron Saint Armor (Saints Row)
- Yatsufusa (Akame Ga Kill)
- Psyacus Kaithe (Warframe)
- Cosmic Gibson EB-0 (FLCL)
- Festina Earring (Second Coming of Gluttony)
- SCP-978 (SCP)
- Kamen Rider Driver (Kamen Rider)
"One sec," I said, reaching into the screen to grab the die, making Peter perk up as I tossed it. The dice began to spin rapidly, tumbling uncontrollably to a random number while I crossed my fingers, hoping to get something good. Then it came to an abrupt stop, showing a 12 before transforming into a… cloak?
"Wait, is that how your power works? What did you just throw?!" Peter questioned as I approached my new item.
No Face May King
The legendary cloak worn by Robin Hood. By pulling up the hood, the Noble Phantasm erases all evidence of the user's presence. Wearing it with the hood down will allow the user to blend into any crowd.
"Ohhhh," I muttered, holding the cloak aloft in two hands. It seemed to be made out of the same kind of cotton that my cardigan was made out of. "This is neat," I decided, glad that I finally got a stealth item. I had been missing those since it wasn't exactly my forte. Interestingly enough, I noticed a number of tacs and hoops, and I realized that the cloak could be folded and stitched together to create different types of clothing.
"What does it do?!" Peter all but begged to know, more excited than I was. In response, I shrugged the cloak on to find that it fell perfectly at my ankles despite the fact it should be longer. Pulling my hood up, Peter's eyes just about fell out of his head. "Sebastian?"
"Still here," I told him, but I didn't see him react. Eliminates all sound? Including talking? A minor irritant, but nothing terrible. Looking down at my hands, I still saw myself but I appeared faintly translucent to my own eyes.
"Where did you go?" Peter asked, fumbling forward and I stomped out of his way. No reaction. That was…
This was a solid item, I decided, pushing my hood back to reveal my presence and Peter just about jumped out of his skin when I did. "I was trying to talk to you, but you couldn't hear me," I told him while Ned gaped at me.
"Can I have a turn?" Ned asked, and in response, I tossed the cloak his way. He was giggling in excitement as he shrugged it on, and I noticed that the cloak fell to his ankles despite the fact that I was half a foot taller than him. Ned was cut off mid giggle when he flicked his hood up and abruptly vanished entirely. I thought it might be a bit of a Predator situation -- bending light to disguise his presence, but there was no outline or rippling of space. Ned was completely gone.
I felt something poke me in my chest, and when I looked down to see if there was an indentation on my shirt, I felt Ned flick my nose. Damn. I can't believe I fell for that one, "Hilarious."
Ned suddenly reappeared, popping into view halfway through the motion of pushing his hood back, "I thought so."
"Wait, let me see if it works for cameras," Peter said, breaking out the phone and pointing it at Ned. I leaned over his shoulder and I was relieved to see that Ned vanished in the recording as well. He didn't appear on the thermal mode, blacklight, or so on. For all intents and purposes, Ned was completely untraceable.
"That should take care of Shield finding me for a bit," I said, taking the cloak back to Ned's infinite disappointment. That was a lucky break. A very lucky break. I doubted that it would stop facial recognition if I didn't have the hood up, but there were enough crowds in New York to still make it handy. Plus, I just needed it to launch my investigation into Cottonmouth. I wanted to fight my international crime kingpin and there was nothing that Shield could do to stop me.
"Your power is so cool," Peter sighed, seemingly a little jealous. As he should be. My power was awesome, especially when the gacha gods smiled upon me. "It being a cloak kind of stands out, though. Maybe we could turn it into a jacket?" He muttered, rolling the materials between his fingers. While he focused on that, my phone buzzed.
Grabbing it, I saw that it wasn’t angry VS debaters but Black Cat. A simple text message: You drew a lot more attention than I thought you might. If you need a place to lay low, I might know a place xoxox.
As far as I was concerned, as of this moment? My Fortress of DOOM was not safe enough for me to lay low.
…
Ned apparently had some serious home ec skills, as it turned out. The No Face May King cloak became a hooded jacket, not one wholly different from the one I wore as Audacity. Ned had mentioned that working the fabric was shockingly easy, like it was helping him along, which turned a few days worth of effort into a couple of hours. I teleported back into the city, stuffing my hands in my pockets and walked to the destination that Black Cat had given.
I was testing my new item along the way. Finding the ins and outs of it. Little things like while I was invisible, people still noticed doors opening or closing. Things that I picked up vanished, but the moment that I set them down, they reappeared. Little things like that. The kind of things that you didn’t want to learn in the heat of the moment.
Ned and Peter had dug their heels in a bit about me going back to New York, but they also understood that they couldn’t really stop me. Ned was starting to sink his teeth into this criminal conspiracy while Peter started working with Dr. Hall on my Regalia 2.0. So, I should have some leads on doing groundwork in Harlem soon enough, on top of possibly finding more vibranium. I genuinely had no idea if they would have any luck finding more.
Either way, I was free to entertain ideas on how I would steal the shield. And how to troll Shield in the meantime.
Coming to a stop in front of a building in Brooklyn -- it wasn't run down, but it couldn't be called nice either. A five story building that was made out of red brick with a small fenced-off area leading up to the front door. Approaching it, I inputted the code and the door opened up for me, revealing less of a lobby and more of a hall that had a short staircase leading to the second floor and an elevator. Entering the elevator, I saw that there was only one button, so I pressed it.
It was a penthouse apartment, I saw when the elevator doors opened after a very quick ride. One that was three stories tall. A low whistle escaped me as I entered the apartment, "Swanky," I decided. It wasn't as awesome as my Fortress of DOOM, but it was a massive step up from sleeping on the streets. The walls were unpainted brick, a large window on the top floor allowed for a lot of natural light to pour through, and all the furniture was fine. More noticeable were the paintings, the statues, the odds and ends that decorated the shelves.
I knew a trophy room when I saw one, especially when I recognized a good chunk of the art – if only because I saw the headlines that it had been stolen-
A series of mewls stole my attention and I looked down to see- "Kittens!" I exclaimed, seeing a good dozen of the buggers charging right for me, releasing squeaky meows. I immediately dropped down to my knees, letting them crawl all over me and it was my greatest and most sincere regret that I only had two hands to pet them with. They made their way up my clothing, brushing themselves against my palms and a big dopey smile tugged at my lips.
I barely noticed when I heard footsteps descending the round staircase that led up to the other half floors of the penthouse. With a white and black cat in my palm as I gave him belly scratches, I looked up to see Black Cat. She didn't have her mask on, and honestly, it hadn't covered that much in the first place. She wore tight fitted yoga pants -- big fan -- and loose fitted shirt, but because of her huge tits, it was in function a crop top. I was surprised to see that her white hair was apparently natural.
"I didn't think you'd come," Black Cat admitted before she tilted her head to the side, "Or that you'd show up without a mask."
"I only wear a mask because it would fuck with my friends lives if the wrong people saw my face," I offered a shrug and gasped when a kitten sat on my shoulder before kissing my cheek and trying to suckle. That told me it was trying to feed, but I didn't see the mother cat. Still fucking cute, though. "Also don't see you wearing one."
"I didn't want to overdress," Black Cat said, reaching the bottom of the stairs as a slight smile found its way on her face. "Felicia Hardy," Felicia introduced herself.
"Sebastian. Sebastian Galahad Stillwater," I returned, making her cock an eyebrow. "Seriously, that's my name."
She blinked, "I see. And if you don't mind me asking, how old are you exactly?" She asked and oh no. No fucking way. I was not about to get age gated.
"The answer to that question is a lot more complicated than you might think," I started and I instantly saw doubt in her eyes.
"Oh?" She didn't believe me in the slightest.
"Technically speaking, I was born about ten thousand years ago," I told her and that seemed to catch her flat footed. "But I spent most of that time in suspended animation inside of a pocket dimension. Biologically speaking, I'm sixteen or seventeen, but I have about a thousand years worth of memories floating around in my noggin. So, I consider myself a thousand years old," I quickly explained and I could tell that confused the hell out of her without any context. That wasn't important -- context could come later.
I remembered my first life the best, but even it was pretty spotty at this point. Now I only really recalled the highlights and the lows of the various illusion lives I was subjected to. The ones where everything I tried ended in failure and everything got worse to see if I would ever take the easy way out. Or the ones where my veins were filled with every narcotic and drug found on Earth, and many that couldn't be to see if I had the strength to not give into the high. The lives I spent learning and mastering a skill or ability to cultivate my ambition.
I had lived more than a thousand years. I had lived more than a thousand lifetimes. As for the punishments… the punishments…
A thousand years seemed a nice and simple middle ground.
"So, you're either a teenager that has no self control or a thousand year old man that's endlessly bored?" Felicia said, sounding like she was at least willing to entertain the idea as she made her way towards me. There was a strut in her gait and a smile at her lips that told me she noticed that I noticed.
"More or less," I agreed. "These cats got a mum?" I questioned.
"No. I found them in a back alley. Seems like some kids got their kicks by torturing and killing a stray," Felicia said, her tone dismissive but the fact that she had a dozen kittens prowling around her apartment said that she cared more than she was letting on.
"... Know who they are?" I questioned, watching Felicia take a seat on her couch.
"And here I thought you weren't a hero?" Felicia remarked, her tone teasing. She was watching me carefully, measuring me. She already revealed her name, and she was apparently letting me use this place as a safehouse. I don't think it was her home, but it was probably one of them. She was testing the waters to see how much she could really trust me.
"I'm not. I just think animal abuse should be punishable by death," I said, giving a kitten chin scratches. "Pets and kids look up to their caretakers. They just want you to be happy and show 'em some love. That's it. That's all it takes to make them happy. Abusing that or deliberately hurting them? As far as I'm concerned, that's as vile of a thing as anyone can do."
Felicia was silent for a brief moment, "... I already dealt with them." She decided to answer, but I think that might be an exaggeration. Not a lie, per say, just an exaggeration. "But, onto more important matters -- I owe you a thank you. You accomplished your part of the job so well that Leland had no idea that I was there."
Sweet. "Moving Tully's money around, right?" I asked her, earning a blink. "One of my friends had access to his offshore accounts and he watched it vanish. The working theory is that whoever he worked for shuffled the money around, but given the timing…" I trailed off, giving Felicia a cynical look. "And I wonder how exactly Leland knew I had been targeting Tully?"
Felicia's smile was downright seductive, "Perhaps you missed a camera on your way in?" She questioned, her tone smooth as silk.
"Or maybe someone tipped them off, and by arranging for me to target Leland, the missing money is going to be blamed on me," I said, returning the smile with a pointed gaze. I wasn't angry. I didn't mind getting used so long as I had fun getting used. Leland hadn't mentioned Felicia at all, telling me that the tip hadn't included her presence. I went to Leland to get my hands on the records to transfer the money while Tully had been murdered to tie up a loose end. "I'm guessing to smoke out the resources that Kingpin will use to get his hands on me, and that money."
Felicia was tellingly silent. "I'm starting to believe the thousand year old thing," she admitted, more or less confirming her guilt.
"Wasn't that hard to figure out. I'm cool with it. I was already going to start poking around one of his crimelords in Harlem. So, he's not wrong in thinking that I was coming for him," I said, playing with the paws of a kitten. They were so tiny. So fucking cute. My heart couldn't take it. I'm about to OD on adorableness.
Felicia tilted her head, "For fun? That's it?"
"You say that like it's not good enough of a reason," I refuted, cocking an eyebrow.
To that, her lips pressed themselves into a thin line. "He murdered my father," she said, and as far as reasons went, that was a pretty solid one. "It was years ago. Before Kingpin became a kingpin. My father was a thief and he stole something that let the Kingpin rise from another random pissant to what he is today. My dad collected his fee, only to find cops waiting for him. He was shoved in a cell and not an hour later, he was found dead of suicide." There was a quiet rage in her voice, of a hurt that time hadn't mended.
"So, you dedicated your life to revenge?" I asked, and her eyes narrowed a fraction.
"And if I have?" She asked, her tone telling me that there was a correct answer to that question.
"Not judging. It's your life," I offered an uncaring shrug and it was only then that I noticed that one of the kittens had climbed in my hood.
"Hm. But no, I haven't dedicated my life to revenge. I've dedicated it to doing what I like and taking what I want. And what I want is revenge for the murder of my father," Felicia explained, the sharp expression melting away but I couldn't quite tell if she was putting on the coy expression to mask her emotions or if she had just been testing me.
"Your motivations don't make any difference to me. I'm taking a shot at the King because it sounds fun," I reminded her.
"I know. I thought you were talk, but I see that you're not. The plan was to use you a bit, let you draw the heat and shake the tree so I could get my shot at revenge. I thought underneath the bravado, you really were a goodie-two shoe hero that'd try to stop me," she admitted and laughed at my absolutely affronted expression. "Since that's not the case, I'd like to ask for your help on this one. I'd like for us to work… closely."
As she spoke, she got up and started to walk to the elevator and I watched her go. "Stay here as long as you like, Sebastian. I'll be in touch." She tossed a wink my way before the doors closed, taking her down.
"God damn," I remarked, scratching a kitten behind the ears. "What a woman."
