Industrial Strength Magic

Chapter 7: First Date

“So like, what do you do?” Brendon. “What’s it like, being a tinker? Do you have a specialty?”

Magic.

“Batteries,” Perry said. “I was just thinking about electricity, and how much Franklin city has, when BAM. I suddenly had this overwhelming urge, like I was hungry and the only way to cure it was to mess around with tech. All of a sudden I became a battery tinker.”

“Neat.” Brendon said with obvious disappointment.

“I can do other thing a little bit. I haven’t tried much out, but batteries seem to be my strength.”

“Well…I’m sure it’s a good career. Everybody needs batteries.” Brendon said, trying to cheer him up.

Tinkers came in all sorts of different types, and their power scaled from inconsequential to world-ending grey-goo types, like Professor Replica. There were a lot more duds than there were Professor Replicas.

The Industrial Tinker and especially the AI Tinker were on the more powerful side of the spectrum and could easily be leveraged for exponential growth. The garage tinker was somewhere in the middle…barring the use of magic.

But Perry wanted all of his friends (specifically Brendon) to assume Perry had gotten a somewhat crap Trigger. Not awful, but not great either. Something they could look at and be amused for a moment then forget about entirely.

I wonder if lying to credulous people is a sin? Perry thought as they walked toward the arcade. Feels like it should be.

The arcade was in the downtown area, east side of the City, a few blocks north of Funkytown, abutting the wall.

Perry glanced up at the monolithic concrete structure looming a hundred feet over them, stretching as far as the eye could see north to south.

And then they were inside the building full of bright lights and distracting noises.

“VR boxing,” Heather said, grabbing Perry’s shirt and tugging him over to her favorite game. Two players stood in opposite tanks and took on avatars who then beat on each other.

Puffs of compressed air simulated the opponent’s strikes, hard enough to sting a little, but not truly painful.

“Fine. Brendon, you good?” Perry glanced over his shoulder and spotted Brendon dunking baskets. Alrighty then.

He allowed himself to be dragged over to the two clear tanks, and climbed in one, pulling the headset down from the ceiling as a wave of air passed over him: each punch fan warming up. The boistrous noise of the arcade was cut off as the VR tank sealed him in.

“I hope you’re in for a world of hurt,” Perry muttered.

“Getting cocky all of a sudden?” Heather asked, her voice transmitted through the speakers, doing some practice jabs with her controllers.

And suddenly they were in the boxing arena.

Heather’s avatar was an amazonian woman about six foot five, wearing a championship belt.

Perry’s was a giant octopus with a mustache pretending to be a human boxer.

“Oh my god, you picked that avatar again?” the giant woman said with Heather’s voice.

Perry adopted an old-timey accent, lapsing between several in a matter of seconds. “C’mon, put up yer dukes, Nya, see, nya.” Perry lifted his two gloved tentacles while his other six skittered around beneath him, dancing from side to side.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Heather said, rushing in to begin the beating.

It was surprisingly less one-sided than it usually was. Heather only beat him most of the time. Perry attributed it to his increased stats.

“Batteries?” Heather panted as they rested between rounds. “I can’t believe he bought that. What’s your real specialty?”

“It’s not that much better,” Perry said. “I can make cheap materials function above their specifications.”

“That’s it?”

“In a nutshell.”

“Why didn’t you tell him that?”

“Because when a guy shows up on the news wearing cardboard armor, I didn’t want Brendon to think it was me. He’s not exactly a vault.”

“Ah.” Heather said, banging her gloves together to start the next round. Perry did the same, and the timer started.

“Do you actually have a plan for your debut?”

“I don’t even have armor yet, so no.”

“Idiot. You should be thinking about that stuff before you finish the armor. You know as soon as you have it, you’re gonna wanna take it for a test drive, and just like that your debut is ruined.”

“You’ve thought a lot about this.” Perry said, playing peekaboo.

“I’ve been planning my debut since I was twelve.”

“But you don’t have any powers?”

Heather jabbed him twice in the nose in response.

“You do?”

Heather jabbed him a couple more times.

“I’m getting mixed signals, here,” Perry said, dodging and catching Heather with a hook, sending the giant avatar toppling to the ground.

“Dangit!” Heather shouted as her character climbed back to her feet.

“Make me a power-armor.” Heather’s giant avatar said.

“….Why would I double my workload?” Perry asked.

“Because I want to rob my dad.”

“Karnos, the super gunrunner with a reputation for crippling his enemies? You wanna rob him?”

“Yeah.”

“That sounds wildly ill-advised.”

“Nah, I’ve put a ton of thought into it. We’re gonna rob one of the gangs he supplies after the money has changed hands. He won’t care if his weapons get stolen from his customers after he’s been paid.”

“Because it’s no longer his responsibility.” Perry said. “Still sounds dangerous.”

“What were you planning on doing with the power armor, posing for swimsuit magazines?”

“Point.” Perry said.

“The weapons all come with some pretty intricate safeties on them. If we take out the gang members before they have a chance to unpack the shipment, we’ll only have to deal with…wait, what’s that sound?”

Perry and Heather took off their headsets and spotted Brendon. The jock was beating his fist against the thick plastic of the boxing VR tank, trying to get their attention.

Behind him, the arcade was completely empty…save for three men with faceless plastic masks and automatic weapons slung over their shoulders.

Aw, man. I told mom I’d be home by ten.

***Later***

“Guys, I think I’m freaking out.” Brendon said between gasps from where he was tied to a chair.

“You keep hyperventilating, you’re gonna pass out,” Heather said, matter-of-factly.

Perry silently scanned the room, looking for something he could use to get them out. It was a concrete box with a single inefficient incandescent bulb.

There was a small steel table with several bloody cutting utensils on it. If these people were professionals, as it seemed, the blood was most likely from beef. They were only meant to scare the crap out of them.

The intimidation factor sure worked wonders on Brendon though. The kid slumped over in his chair, out like a light.

“This is scary, right?” Perry asked, glancing over at Heather.

Heather shrugged. “Eight out of ten. It’s pretty good.”

There’s some heavy duty trash bags in the corner for our body parts, a butcher knife…a camera watching everything we do…

“Yeah, it’s a pretty good setup,” Perry nodded, relaxing a bit.

He continued scanning the room until a glint of light caught his eye. There was one of Heather’s fiery hairs on her pants.

“Can I borrow that hair?” Perry nodded towards it.

“Knock yourself out.”

Gotta work fast. If they were watching, Perry might only have a minute or less before they stormed in and corrected the situation.

He shifted in his chair until he made contact with Heather’s pants.

“Whoah, that’s my butt, Perry.”

“It’s really hard to do this with my hands behind my back.”

“Sure, that’s your excuse.”

“I think it’s a pretty good one,” Perry said, twisting until he felt like his spine was going to break, sliding his fingers down Heather’s thigh until he found what he was looking for.

A strand of hair.

Perry twisted back around in his chair and waited a moment.

Nobody was storming in. The only sound was Brendon’s snoring.

Well, might work. Maybe they’re busy making ransom calls. Or thought I’m a perv.

Whatever. I’ll take what I can get.

Perry took the hair and pulled it taut between his fingers and began sliding it up and down along the ropes binding his hands together.

The strand of hair, strengthened by his Perk, cut through the rope like balsa wood. In less than a minute, he was free, clasping his hands together behind his back to maintain the illusion.

“I’m gonna free you as quick as I can, then we’re gonna barricade the door. we can free Brendon when the situation is under control.”

“Got it,” Heather nodded.

“Now.”

Perry sprung out of his chair, landing behind Heather. He started sawing furiously with the strengthened hair, cutting through her ropes in seconds.

Perry heard some distant clattering and shouting, but simply focused on his task.

“A little faster, Perry?” Heather asked.

“Just be ready to barricade the door,” Perry muttered, as he was already cutting as fast as he could.

Snap!

Click!

The door opened an instant after the rope snapped open, and Heather was already sprinting forward. She jumped, her body straight as a nail as she landed both feet in the center of the masked man’s chest, propelling him violently backwards, into the concrete hallway.

Perry leapt over the chair and where Heather hit the ground, slamming the door shut.

“Butcher knife?”

“It’s welded to the table.” Heather said, trying to pry on the knife. “All of it is.”

“Table?”

“Bolted to the ground,” Heather shot back.

“Freakin’ professionals,” Perry said, shaking his head, his gaze landing on the trash bags in the corner of the room.

“Can you wake up Brendon? We’re gonna need some muscle.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Heather asked.

“Pfft, no. got a better one?”

“Eh,” Heather shrugged, then went up to Brendon, untying him and slapping him awake.

“Gah!” Brendon shouted,

“Brendon, come hold the door closed!” Perry shouted as it began to buck against him.

“Uh, what?”

“RIGHT NOW!”

The jock jumped and ran over to the door, bracing his shoulder against it.

“Cool, thanks,” Perry said, leaving him alone there.

“Wait, where are you going!?” Bendon demanded, the door rattling against his shoulder.

Rather than answer, Perry bum rushed the steel table and drop-kicked it, having been inspired by Heather’s move.

Creak!

The weld on of the upper corners connecting to the legs failed, and Perry got underneath it and pushed up as hard as he could. A moment later, Heather was right beside him, gritting her teeth with effort.

Crack!

The surface of the steel table with the bloody instruments welded to it flew away, clattering against the wall.

“Trash bags.” Perry said, pointing at the roll in the corner of the room as he picked up the steel plate and moved it back to the center of the room.

That’s at least three millimeters of steel. Should do what I need it to do.

Heather threw the black roll at him.

Perry caught it one handed, whipping off a single sheet and twisting it into a rope.

He set one end on one of the still-standing table legs and smashed the steel down on top of it, embedding the plastic rope partially into the steel.

He repeated the process, and had a shield, complete with handle.

Thankfully, the steel table was smaller than the door.

“Alright, we’re gonna open the door. When that happens, get behind me, and push. Ready?”

“Umm…” Brendon hedged.

“Too bad.”

They threw the door open, causing the men battering it to stumble forward, only to crack their heads into Perry’s shield.

Brendon closed his eyes and shoved Perry forward as they trampled their captors in the hallway.

Heather followed behind them, disarming the knocked-down minions as she went. She wasn’t keeping the weapons, only rendering them inoperable. As they were civilians, the general rule of thumb among cowls was to exercise a modicum of restraint. They were less likely to be shot while they were unarmed.

Perry heard the stuttering of an automatic weapon, the multiple impacts of bullets hitting his shield, then the meaty thump of another minion being battered against it.

Mostly.

Brendon was screaming, but he didn’t stop pushing, which was good.

They emerged into what could only be described as a lair.

It looked like a converted warehouse, with a heavy industrial aesthetic. There was a bit of light leaking from series of window near the third story catwalk above them.

It was also filled with faceless minions, and one fellow who wore a domino mask and flamboyant green leather. He stood a head taller than Brendon and must’ve weighed fifty pounds more.

Perry couldn’t place him, so he was either an up-and-comer, or C-list.

Judging by his salt and pepper hair, probably C-list. Didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous, though.

“You kids are resourceful. Really mcguyver’d your way outta there, didn’t ya?” He asked.

“You see that door to the left, Brendon? Perry whispered. “You’re gonna run for it on my signal.”

“What about you guys?”

“Covering you with the shield, obviously,” Perry said.

“Obviously,” Heather said.

“Alright cut the chatter.” The cowl said, scowling at them. “Put down the table, and surrender, and we can get back to a nice orderly ransom. You should know by now Raider doesn’t want to hurt the merchandise…

Glowing green blades manifested from his forearms.

“But Raider is not above it.”

“Well, that’s a super.” Perry muttered. “Run, Brendon.”

“But-“

“Do it!” Heather hissed.

Brendon dashed for the exit, Perry and Heather moving to put the shield between him and the enemies.

“Damn it, the payday is bolting! Outta my way!” Raider shouted, lunging forward.

The top half of the table-shield and part of the handle got sheared off in the blink of an eye, leaving Perry eye to eye with the hulking man with the bloodshot eyes.

“Crap.” Perry ducked and scrambling underneath the wild swings, emerging behind Raider.

He took one look at the sheer quantity of armed minions and stuck to their boss like glue.

They wouldn’t shoot him while he was that close to the guy. Although that came with its own dangers.

“freakin’ weasels!” The man muttered, aiming a backswing at Perry while fending off Heather with his other hand.

Perry tried to duck again, but the blade swerved down and caught him in the side of the head, smashing him into the dusty concrete floor.

HP:1

Perry gasped a breath of sweet air, thankful to be alive.

So HP can stop these blades. Idea. Perry had been playing too much VR boxing recently.

Perry scrambled to pick up the remains of the shield again, battering it against Raider’s knee.

“Gah!” Raider shouted and took another swing at the annoying teen, bisecting the shield again, leaving a tiny plate tentatively attached to a plastic rope.

Okay, here we go, Perry thought, tightening his grip on the plastic.

Perry switched places with Heather and leapt straight into the guy’s sights.

Thankfully Raider wasn’t particularly suspicious of a trap, as he took another wild swing at Perry’s chest.

Perry stepped into the swing and countered into Raider’s jaw with his makeshift brass knuckles.

Perry felt a dull impact in his chest.

HP: 0

Raider’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped over, unconscious, and likely sporting a broken jaw.

The minions glanced at each other.

The sounds of sirens grew in the distance. Brendon must’ve flagged down a police officer.

They scattered, none of them particular eager to go to jail with their boss.

You have defeated Raider:

Reward: 300XP

“Heck yeah,” Perry said, his side vaguely itching.

“You’re bleeding.” Heather pointed at Perry’s side.

“Ah, crap.” Now he was gonna catch hell from mom and dad.

“Did you notice he said Brendon was the payday?” Heather asked. “Lift your arms.”

“I know, that was weird wasn’t it? I guess it makes sense because his parents are rich.” Perry said, raising his arms with a wince. Heather then tied his shirt around the wound in a makeshift bandage.

“Let’s go get our phones back so we can buy you a new shirt.” She said, motioning toward the pile of their possessions in the middle of the warehouse.

***Later***

“How was the arcade, sweety?” Mom asked from the kitchen as Perry walked through the door, trying his best not to favor the wound currently seeping into a thick wad of gauze under his shirt.

Perry considered that for a moment.

“…Pretty fun, actually. Heather and I went clothes shopping afterwards.”

Mom stuck her head out from the kitchen, jaw open, brows raised. “You know what it means when a girl takes you shopping for clothes, don’t you?” she asked.

It means you’ve got a bloody hole in your shirt and need a new one, as well as first aid supplies? Perry thought.

“I wouldn’t read too much into it,” he said.

“Did she make a date to go out again?”

And rob a shipment of high-tech weapons from vicious gangsters, yeah.

“Sort of?” Perry said. “We’re gonna be hanging out Saturday after next.”

“Just the two of you?”

“…Yeah.”

“OOooh!” mom wiggled in excitement. “It’s a date!”

“Please.” Perry said

“It’s a date!”

“Mom.”

Mom pranced back into the kitchen, waving her arms above her head in excitement, Perry’s protests falling on deaf ears.

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