So when a Tinker finds out what their special talent is, do they get it branded on the sides of their buttcheeks?
Tag: Arc 9
The PRT staff insisted he was exceptional with antigrav and guns, had it even marked in his file, but he knew it wasn’t so true. He finished his guns because they were simple, in their own way.
I see. They don’t take too long to make, so he stays on task long enough to do it?
It was easy enough to take three half-finished gun projects and mash them together. Create something with multiple settings, even.
Take three half-finished gun projects, mash them together, and get 1.5 guns in one.
As far as he was aware, he was the only Tinker in the PRT’s records that didn’t have a defined specialty, gimmick or trick.
Huh. Maybe that means he hasn’t found his thing yet, and would turn out to be even better at tinkering once he did so.
He was increasingly worried that his special talent as a tinker was being able to occasionally make something despite his learning disability. Which would suck, if it were true.
Ouch, yeah.
The dyscalculia was something concrete that he couldn’t deny or explain away. He couldn’t keep numbers in his head, couldn’t make the most basic intuitive leaps or connections with them.
That’s fair, dyscalculia is a lot more concrete and clearly defined than ADHD.
All of that had been before he got his powers. Nothing had changed, except that now he could visualize something, instinctively know how he could put it together.
Huh, cool!
His disability or disabilities put him a step behind the rest. His daydreaming was worse, because his thoughts were so damn interesting, now.
Ahaha, yeah, if I had the same power, I’d probably be spending loads of time thinking up new inventions too. Lots of useless or silly ones, I’d imagine.
He couldn’t take reliable measurements without using computers to do it. Couldn’t finish half his projects without feeling compelled to move on to something else.
Relatable as fuck. The last sentence, I mean.
It took a minute to check that none of them had suffered any permanent damage. After some debate, they moved the bodies to a more secure, dry spot, inside the building.
Good call.
Wait, there are dry spots in this city?
Glory Girl managed to make her way back two minutes after the Travelers were gone,
Sheesh, she must’ve gone far.
helped with the last body that still hung on the wall. By the time they were done, the rain was pouring down.
Y’know, over the course of Arcs 8 and 9… Water just does not have a good reputation right now.
Kid Win stared down at the corpses, an ugly feeling in his gut.
Any thoughts on who’s behind this?
He was dumb, easily distracted, prone to leaving his projects unfinished, and it was moments like this that this knowledge hit him particularly hard. His dad had made him get tested, and the doctors had labeled him with ADD and dyscalculia.
Eyyy! Canon, explicit ADD representation that so far seems well-handled! I can get behind this.
(I’m also still convinced that Greg has ADHD, and he was well-handled too, even if Taylor didn’t exactly appreciate him.)
He held to the opinion that the ADD diagnosis was way overused – he liked to think that he was just a daydreamer, prone to getting lost in his thoughts.
Eh, fair enough.
But seriously, if I see indications that Wildbow himself thinks ADD diagnoses are illegitimate more often than not, I will take back that “well-handled”. We’re trivialized enough as it is.
Kid Win fired a salvo at the retreating villains, grazed Ballistic. Sundancer turned, directing her orb between their groups. She dropped it into the water. Massive clouds of heated steam rose where the orb met water, obscuring the battlefield.
On one hand, that’s a bit unfortunate for the Wards, but on another hand, Trickster relies on line of sight, so this messes with his power a lot, even if he does get up.
By the time it cleared, the villains were gone.
Goodbye!
Travelers 1-0 Wards
Shadow Stalker materialized behind Trickster, catching him around the throat in a headlock.
Nice! But try not to let him see your arm.
She used one foot to kick his feet out from under him, and then forced him face first into the water.
Excellent. Looks like we might have a partial capture here, if this sticks.
Kid Win hesitated. Help her or help Vista?
I think you’d be better fit to helping Vista.
Vista. Shadow Stalker would say she could handle herself. Made a point of trying to.
That too.
He fired more shots to free Vista, missing the wires one or two times. The heroine, for her part, focused on angling the wall beneath her to allow herself to slide down instead of falling the full distance.
Sweet.
Ballistic shot Shadow Stalker, driving her back. The attack had left a gaping hole just below her heart, the edges wispy.
Welp. Here’s hoping she can just fill that back in.
The gap closed, but the attack had separated her from Trickster, and hurt her badly enough that she crumpled to the ground, a hand to her chest.
Looks like it’s a bit of both yes and no on that.
The balance of the fight had abruptly shifted. Clockblocker, Flechette and Vista were where the three Travelers had been, and vice versa.
Whoop.
You know what? I really, really like Trickster’s power.
“Nuh uh uh, kiddo,” Trickster spoke, as the gap in the wall began closing behind his group, “Up you go.”
What are you going to do now?
Nice try, at least, Vista.
The flayed corpse appeared in Vista’s position.
Well shit. At least she can make the fall shorter for herself.
No! Kid Win turned, saw Vista on the wall. She’d gotten tangled in the loops of wire that had been holding the corpse up.
Huh. Seems Trickster’s getting lucky.
The metal wire was coiled around a shattered part of the wall, and more than one wire had caught around her neck. Another looping of wire bound her body, one of her arms caught against her side.
Well, she’s stuck.
She struggled to pull at the wire on her neck with her free hand, but it was little help. The wire pulled so tightly against her throat that Kid Win feared it would cut her skin.
Ouch.
“Trickster!” Sundancer cried out, horrified.
Apparently Kid’s not the only one who doesn’t like this.
Is this the source of those problems we’ve seen alluded to between Trickster and Sundancer? That he’s a bit crueler than she appreciates?
“Just run!” was the villain’s only reply. The three villains started running, leaving the building behind, their footsteps sloshing and splashing.
Well, this is looking more and more like a Traveler victory.
Kid Win raised his laser pistol, aimed carefully, then fired, landing the shot a half-foot to the right of Vista’s throat. The wires heated and split, freeing her, and she dropped a foot before catching on more wires.
Nice shot!
Nothing dangerous, this time, but it was a fair distance to fall and one slip could see her getting cut on the wire, strangled or cracking her head open as she fell.
Ouch, yeah.
Maybe if she has enough fine control of the power, Vista can reduce the distance to the floor and increase the distance between her body and each piece of wire?
Dumb. He regretted it the second his finger left the trigger.
Welp. Who’s it gonna hit, you or someone else?
As he predicted, he found himself somewhere else in the blink of an eye, and the impact of his own gunfire slammed into his back, intensely hot.
Oof. Better hope what happened earlier was a result of “Genesis”’s “biology” and not a malfunctioning gun, eh, Kid?
He threw himself to the ground at the base of the building, where water pooled, rolling so his back was submerged.
Good call.
Stop, drop and roll!
It’s not lethal, can’t do any permanent harm, you had it vetted, tested on pig meat.
At least it’s not the Tiro Finale.
“The water’s going to wash away the evidence if you don’t let us go and hurry to check on the bodies,” Trickster spoke.
That’s a good point, honestly.
“Crime scene techs can’t get here in time with the roads like they are,” Weld spoke. “And we’re not allowed to touch the evidence anyways. Rules.”
Fair enough. Let’s hope the other crime scenes have ceilings.
“Rules? You shouldn’t sweat those things so much,” Trickster chuckled, “Here, I’ll help you out.”
Oh man, is he about to teleport one of the corpses down to Weld?
And yeah, I kind of agree with Trickster here. Securing the evidence is more important than waiting for the right people to do it when those people can’t make it in time anyway.
Weld disappeared, and the burned corpse flopped to the ground.
Close enough.
“Shit!” Clockblocker shouted, running forward.
Weld dropped from the wall for the second time in a matter of minutes as the restraints intended for the woman’s corpse tore free of the concrete.
So he did get stuck in the restraints, but because of his weight, the wall couldn’t support him. Alright.
Vista reshaped the wall to ease his descent. Kid Win raised his laser rifle to fire at Trickster.
I can’t help but imagine her shaping the wall into a fun slide under Weld.
“Fuck!” Weld cursed, the metal spikes of the darts jutting out of his jaw, cheekbone, eyebrow and forehead, “Takes forever to get my face right after something like this!”
Ahaha, sorry, pal.
More bad news: You’ve also just revealed your weakness to the enemy.
Trickster’s teleportations had placed the enemy’s group in the interior of the building, with the Wards surrounding them.
So a reversal of how it was earlier?
Surrounding one’s enemy wasn’t quite an advantage when the enemy could teleport, but for a moment, they all paused where they were, various weapons at the ready. It was the kind of momentary peace that fell when everyone was waiting to react to what the others were doing.
One of few tactical situations that don’t quite have an analogue in chess. Not on the scale of the whole board, at least.
A wind blew past them, and Kid Win blinked as a fat droplet of water spattered against his visor. It was starting to drizzle. He glanced up at the corpses where they hung on the walls of the building.
“So don’t change the dizzle, turn it up a little
I got a living room full of fine dime brizzles
Waiting on the Pizzle, the Dizzle and the Shizzle
G’s to the bizzack, now ladies here we gizzo
When the pimp’s in the crib ma
Drop it like it’s hot
Drop it like it’s hot
Drop it like it’s hot…”
– English Romantic poet, John Keats
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