For that matter, the main disad of a familiar seems to be the constant low-to-moderate power drain, and a properly built familiar can use magic just fine themselves, and most likely won't have your problems with low-power spells. Might be handy to have something small, sneaky and friendly to do the little subtle things for you without lighting up on magesight-equivalents.
Only question is, what should you start with and what should you spec it to.
- You have enough power to go full on Master of the Menagerie if you want to, but that doesn't really seem to be your schtick. You likely don't want more than one, just from a "managing your life" standpoint
- You want to start with something small enough to easily fit fully within your defenses (and/or the air ducts). That way they won't have to waste a transformed form on it.
- You want something that's common enough in the areas that you'll be operating in that people won't see it and immediately think "familiar of enemy magus"
- You'll want something that can aid you in the ways you are most likely to desire aid. That sort of support is going to be most useful when you are operating solo, so base on that.
You really don't need any more gun. As far as combat goes, they're going to be inside your defenses, which means that they're close enough that them throwing up a shield is going to protect you too. Shielding specialty seems valuable, if only because having another set of eyes that can throw a solid shield on your behalf is always helpful in any fight that isn't a curbstomb in your favor. You'll also want them to have enough ability at healing to stabilize you and, preferably, get you back to functional, as that's the most glaring example of things that you might need that you can't do for yourself. Having the ability to cloak and/or teleport both of you at once would also be awfully handy from a "survive when everything goes badly" standpoint - and if they can teleport the two of you over short distances without prep time, that can be handy as a combat dodge - not necessarily one you use all that often, but a good combat dodge in the right place at the right time can really pay off.
Alertness and other forms of sensory spec will depend on your own abilities in the area. If you yourself are able to notice ambushes before they happen, then you've got that handled. If you aren't, then having a friend to do that for you can be really very helpful. Of course, it's possible that your device might handle this as well. Similarly, when you're in a running gunfight, having someone who can be looking at the map, and making plans and strategic calls on where to run the gunfight to can come in handy, especially since working for Jail is likely to wind you up penetrating security in at least a few places that you've never been before.
I dunno. I've run out of ideas, but it does seem like, give your available power, a well-tuned familiar is an easy win in terms of effectiveness.
Posts: 2,238
Threads: 136
Joined: Dec 2008
Reputation:
0
So, a chameleon familiar, then? 
-----
Stand between the Silver Crystal and the Golden Sea.
"Youngsters these days just have no appreciation for the magnificence of the legendary cucumber." --Krityan Elder, Tales of Vesperia.
It kind of flows backwards - the base body flows from the things he wants it to be good at (there will be personality implications, if nothing else) which in turn flows from the types of missions he expects to be put on and the sorts of things that he expects to want/need help on, and that flows from what he's good at already. he knows a lot more of those answers than I do.
Chameleon might be good at stealth magics, but it's a little too focused - if he wanted to focus on stealth to that degree, it would be because he expected to be in a lot of situations where stealth was critically important, and that, in turn, would only make sense if he himself was good at stealth, thus eliminating the need for his familiar to do it for him. Also, while they're good at not being seen, chameleons are odd - once they are seen, they'll stick in someone's memory. You'd rather have a body (like mouse/rat/spider or maybe snake - or local equivalents thereof, depending on how that works) that will be reasonably good at the stealth, common enough to raise attention, and expected to act stealthy (say, because it's a terrified prey animal) so that the fact that it was sneaking around won't raise attention either.
Posts: 1,452
Threads: 58
Joined: Apr 2006
Reputation:
0
Thinko fixed. Thanks for that, CD.
As for elemental magic, you've given me a few good ideas- both for spells I could create, and for scenes to use them in. Did you consider that the whole 'takes so much power otherwise' is spell inefficiency (the part of the spell that makes elemental mana being remarkably wasteful), and therefore happens after I link mana? Food for thought.
As for familiarchat... wow. I did not think of that. Like, at all.
The very concept of making a familiar never even entered my mind- and I'm talking Author-Me, here. It generally doesn't, though. I'm that guy who plays a D&D wizard and never picks up Find Familiar, or picks up a Diablo 2 Necromancer for the bone spells. Call it a mental block.
You're very right that it'd be a smart move- I have mana to burn, and the subtlety value of being able to power another being without my magical limitations would be considerable. It's also unlikely to happen. First, I wouldn't think of it myself (as can be assumed by the fact I didn't think of it), and I don't see Jail bringing up the idea. Second, IC-me is going to either be against the idea of creating a sapient being that's dependent on his goodwill to survive, or in the mental trap of 'summoned ally = another unit to micromanage' that playing far too many video games have given me. Maybe both. Third, OOC-me has NO IDEA what familiar to make (I'm not a big fan of most animals, and insects are right out. I'd probably learn Starlight Breaker just to use it on my own familiar, if it were a spider.), which means IC-me would probably have a hard time with that. Fourth, the author feels he wouldn't be able to do a new character justice.
Consider it a mistake. I'm going to be making a number of those.
**********
Entry 26 (Day 156)
Happy New Year to me! As of about eighteen hours ago, year 0059 of the New Calendar ended, and 0060 began. From what I've been able to tell, this means it should be 2014 back home.
...dangit, I shouldn't have done that comparison. Now I miss my old life again.
I've been rather too busy to think about said life as of late. Of the last five and a half weeks, I spent three of them entirely on developing my first truly useful spell to a combat-capable level. It's nowhere near combat-effective, and definitely not combat-winning, but it works well enough for training and development purposes.
Speaking of training, guess where the rest of my time has gone? Hint: not where you think.
The doors opened with a hiss of hydraulics. The very fact that I could hear it told me that this was a much tougher door than most around here; most of the doors around the lab complex actually don't make hydraulic noises. They have noisemakers which sound almost, but not exactly, like door actuators. The fact that this one didn't need a noisemaker meant that this was a special door, which suggested that I was entering a special room... and the lack of anything inside it suggested another containment room. Goody. Wonder what it's going to be today?
Two steps into the room, my question was answered.
Well, ain't that a kick in the head, I thought to myself, as I picked myself back up off the ground. "What in the ever-shifting layers of the Abyss WAS THAT FOR?!"
All I got for my trouble was another painful blow- this one to the small of my back- and the cold voice of Tre in what I'd dubbed Full Mission Mode. "You are slow." I tried to get up, only to turn my impromptu pushup into a sideways roll, shuddering slightly as a fist hit the ground below where my head had been. "You are clumsy." As soon as I came out of the roll, awkwardly sitting up, she was on me again, forcing me to fall to one side to dodge a nasty-looking kick.
I managed to bounce myself up off the ground before Tre got back over to me. Even got the angle right- by the time I was standing up, I was looking right at her. Not much time before she gets over here.
[Mal? Engage Jacket.]
[ENGAGING.]
By the time my barrier jacket finished forming, the girl was no longer in sight.
WHAM!
If the power behind that blow was any indication, she'd tried to kick me in the back. Glad my barrier got up first; that one probably would've hurt a lot. This time, I didn't even have to stand up; Tre's kick had just forced me to stagger forward a few steps. I whirled back around, a blue circle already drawing itself in front of my left hand-
"IS Activate: Ride Impulse."
-only to stop in my tracks, Tre's left arm pulling my chin back. Her right hand held a violet energy blade, part of her IS, to my exposed throat.
"But you can be taught." The blade went out, and she pulled her arms back, walking around to stand in front of me while I gasped for air. "That is why we are here. Starting today, you will report to Containment Room B," she waved a hand around, indicating the room around us, "every day at 0800. Training will last until 1400."
She paused, thinking for a second. "It would be wise for you to bring a meal to future sessions. Our kind consume calories faster than normal humans, and you will need the energy." She paused again. "You have already been given knowledge of basic unarmed combat. Dismiss your Device, retain your barrier jacket, and prepare yourself!"
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Posts: 1,452
Threads: 58
Joined: Apr 2006
Reputation:
0
I've gotten better since that first session. Like with the basic magical skills, the CQC that Tre's been teaching me felt maddeningly familiar, like I'd learned it years ago, and let myself forget I even knew it. I've been picking up the maneuvers at what I think is an acceptable speed, but it's hard to tell with Tre.
She makes a rather good sensei- blunt, hard, and to the point, but not cruel. I haven't heard so much as a single insult out of her- just 'Acceptable' when I get it right, and a short explanation when I get it wrong. No coddling, no belittling, constructive criticism, and plenty of motivation.
Between that and my spell work (you know, in my copious spare time), I've been studying Device mechanics, principles, programming and operation. If I ever get stranded somewhere, away from the lab, I want to be able to maintain (and maybe even upgrade) Malleus myself.
Entry 27 (Day 246)
...I'm paralyzed. I have no feeling from the hair down. MAKE THE BAD TRE STOP!
Seriously, I've just spent the last three months straight working on my combat capability- and when I mean 'three months straight', I mean ninety consecutive eighteen-hour days of nothing but fighting. No Device, no magic- just my body, my jacket, and a never-ending stream of injuries.
If I were still a normal, I'd've died five minutes in. As it is, I've been bruised, bashed, cut, sliced, smashed, burnt, and stabbed more times than I'd like to count. I've forgotten what it feels like to just sit and relax... much less get a full ten hours of sleep. Those were the days... I think.
As it is, after three months of pain, toil, and sacrifice... Tre can still beat me in a fight. Easily. It takes her quite a while longer than it used to- seventy seconds, instead of two- but I'm still barely a speed bump. Not yet, anyway.
I have to cut this entry short. Tre's back, and it looks like she wants another round.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Posts: 1,452
Threads: 58
Joined: Apr 2006
Reputation:
0
The instant we entered the training room, Tre was on me. Her IS activated silently; before I'd finished thinking I'm in for it now, I was on my back, skidding away from her at high speed. She vanished, of course, well before I'd come to a stop.
Instead of rolling out of the way immediately, I waited a fraction of a second. This time, when she tried to kick me in the head, I could feel the breeze from it against my face. Her followthrough gave me time to spring to my feet and throw a punch of my own. It didn't hit, of course- Tre was too good (and too fast) for that- but she wasn't in a position to dodge.
My follow-up kick to her knee, coming directly on the heels of that punch, did hit, forcing her to the ground. She just grunted, slowly stood back up, and cracked her neck. "My turn." Then she vanished.
The first blow came, as expected, without warning- a punch to my side. Another two followed shortly after, quickly enough that I could barely feel when one ended and the next began. Her fourth hit was a knee to my groin; the barrier jacket took a lot of the force, but it was still enough to double me over... putting my head where Tre could grab it with both hands, and drive it into her knee. A descending elbow to the back followed that up, putting me on the ground.
This floor looks familiar.
"Get up."
Instead of trying to do what Tre ordered, I instead tensed up. She didn't disappoint- the following kick, aimed at my midsection, would've left me breathless and gasping if I hadn't. Of course, I was still on the ground, in a great deal of pain, and about to faint from exhaustion, but at least I wasn't out of breath!
Usually, this would be the point where Tre would either kick me a few more times, or put her blade to my throat. That's how our duels always ended, after all; I'd come to expect it, actually, and was straining myself to at least see her coming this time. Imagine my surprise when I felt her full weight come down on me. That's what I get for not asking for eyes in the back of my head.
"Only eight hours of battle, and you can't even stand. Pathetic. I can't believe I'm related to somebody as weak as you."
The elder cyborg sounded just as cold and dispassionate as always, but after the last few months, I could pick up on the scorn in her voice. "Did you know I asked the Doctor for the right to kill you, back when you first arrived here? He denied me because he was curious." She shifted her weight from one side to the other, eliciting a groan of pain from me. "He wanted to know who you were- what use you could be to him.
When the two of you made a bargain, I protested. I told him you were weak, honorless- a worm, unworthy of his attention. Again, I requested that your life end. Again, I was denied... because he was curious. He wanted to know if he could do what you suggested, and figured you might prove useful, if it worked.
When I brought you to your uplifting, my opinion of you changed." Here she leaned down, pulling my head back by my chin. "Do you know what I saw? I saw strength. I saw determination. You were on death's door, minutes away from a total magilink collapse. You shouldn't have been able to move... and yet you sat up- not once, but again and again. You managed to stand up, and even walk. 'Here', I thought, 'is somebody who is worthy.'"
Tre let go of my chin, pushing my face back down into the ground. "Now, look at you. You've been given all the advantages the Doctor could offer, and what have you done with them? NOTHING. You are a cyborg of my line, one of the greatest weapons ever constructed... but you fight like a HUMAN."
I felt her weight lift off me for an instant, before landing on the small of my back, her legs holding mine together as she straddled me. "I was right about you from the beginning. You are worthless! You're nothing but a jumped-up human worm who will never amount to anything, no matter what you try!" A fist came down next to my head, my hair fluttering as it clipped my ear. "You've never made anything, like the Doctor has! You've never changed anything, like I have! I bet you've never even helped somebody do anything great, the way Big Sister Uno does all the time!"
Her other fist came down, harder this time, on the other side of my head. "Did you leave your planet because nothing you did there mattered? Was it because your existence was pointless, or was it something more frivolous than that? Oh... maybe you realized that nobody would ever even like you, much less fall in love with a pitiful wretch like you!"
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Posts: 1,576
Threads: 94
Joined: Oct 2002
Reputation:
0
....I am sensing an increased level of tsundare.
Posts: 25,651
Threads: 2,064
Joined: Feb 2005
Reputation:
12
I'd say "get a room," but they already have one... and Prefect's a little young for that at the moment.
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."
- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
Posts: 1,452
Threads: 58
Joined: Apr 2006
Reputation:
0
...thank you. I needed those laughs. ^^
Not sure if joking, or going to end up really, really surprised later.
**********
Ford had been struggling to get up ever since Tre had sat on his back. His struggles got more frantic with every point she made, right up until that last sentence. As Tre's commentary reached its peak, Ford's eyes widened, his pupils contracting to points. He slumped bonelessly to the ground, his eyes closing as his body went limp.
A few seconds passed. Tre just sat there on Ford's back, her head cocked to one side in surprise.
Then Ford twitched. Then again. If Tre had been able to see his face, she would've noticed the transition from solipsistic catatonia, to half-conscious awareness of the outside world, to unthinking, animalistic rage. As it was, her first indication of what was going on was when he stood up, throwing her off his back, and screamed.
Her second indication came when Imma finally turned around, in the form of a pair of empty yellow eyes.
"Graaaaahh... RAAAAAAAAGGH!!"
An irregular blue circle- not the runes and circles of a proper magic circle, but something like the combination of a spiral and an electromagnet- formed at Imma's feet. It quickly expanded to fill the room, and then stopped, settling down into a stable rotation.
By this time, Tre had stood up. She took one look at Imma, saw the circle on the ground, and immediately engaged her IS, flying at her top speed straight at him. As she got closer to her goal, two of the purple wings on her arms faded, reappearing as an energy knife in one hand.
Then the circle pulsed once. Tre fell out of the air, smacking face-first into the floor. She skidded forward, still moving at nearly full speed, only to run straight into Imma. The two of them rolled a few feet further, finally coming to a halt in a chaotic tangle of limbs.
Tre was the first to recover. Once she was aware again, it didn't take her long to untangle herself from Imma, who was still laying on the ground, barely moving. Given what they were, Tre knew that that wouldn't last.
There was only one thing for her to do. She climbed back on top of Imma, and punched him in the face, as hard as she could. Imma's head snapped back, hitting the floor... and then slowly, deliberately raised back up. Gold eyes met gold, and a pair of hands clamped down on Tre's midsection. Imma stood up, effortlessly lifting Tre with him, before slamming her back into the ground. While she was dazed, he grabbed her by the throat, lifting her above his head by one hand, and began to squeeze.
Tre, of course, noticed this, and resisted. She couldn't quite reach Imma's face to punch him, and he ignored every kick she delivered. Scaglietti's designs had eliminated most of the typical human pressure point weaknesses, so that approach was out. Pulling up an Impulse Blade just got her choked harder, impossibly enough, and a punch from his other arm. The only other option left to Tre was attempting to pry Imma's hand off her throat... an approach that met with all of the success of a mosquito attempting to stop a train.
The last things Tre noticed that day was Ford's pupils dilating back to normal, and a raspy, choked "...call me weak, will you?"
Both combatants hit the ground at the same time, Ford's jacket fizzling into nothingness as they passed out.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Posts: 2,238
Threads: 136
Joined: Dec 2008
Reputation:
0
You know, I was kinda wondering if Jail had given you an IS...
Now you just need to find out if you can use it without going berserk. (If you can't, though, my Viking army always has openings...)
-----
Stand between the Silver Crystal and the Golden Sea.
"Youngsters these days just have no appreciation for the magnificence of the legendary cucumber." --Krityan Elder, Tales of Vesperia.
Posts: 1,452
Threads: 58
Joined: Apr 2006
Reputation:
0
Jorlem: Your Viking army doesn't have openings. It makes openings in other armies. Incidentally, would you mind making a few openings in the Mediterranean tonight?
**********
Entry 28 (Day 247)So I decided to read back through a bunch of my old logs, and wow. I start WAY TOO MANY of them with the same sort of comment. Probably shouldn't write them all after something exciting happens, huh?Sadly for my literary cred, this entry immediately follows another interesting event.
My last entry had Tre dragging me off for another training session. I managed to get in one hit on her, after which she proceeded to totally demolish me, pin me to the ground, and then ask me some rather unpleasant questions.
She'd been beating me like a drum, so by the time she started to berate me, I'd been rather thoroughly discombobulated. On top of that, what she said rather resembled a... painful... incident in my past. That combination did me no favors.
My memories of yesterday stop, rather abruptly, during Tre's monologue. The next thing I remember is waking up in my room... and the explanation I got when I charged into the main lab.
It turned out that the entire incident- wearing me down, beating me up, hitting me with questions most people would find unpleasant- was on Scaglietti's orders. Once they explained what had happened, I wasn't really surprised to hear why it was done, or who ordered it. It fits his MO to a T.
See, we (and by 'we', I mean me, and by extension, the doctor) had a problem. I'd been made into a combat cyborg, designed to exceed human limitations in almost every way... except I wasn't. I was, in fact, performing at average human levels in every way, right down the line. Strength, speed, endurance, uptime... you name it, I was failing at it.
The doctor did some scans, looked at my blueprints, and couldn't find a single thing wrong with my body. I was capable of inhuman performance- he'd made sure of that!- so why wasn't I?
The problem clearly wasn't in the hardware, he'd reasoned, so it must be in the software. I was the only combat cyborg ever made that hadn't grown up as one, so maybe I didn't have the same feel for what I could do as a born cyborg did.
Of course, being Jail Scaglietti, his solution was to have his pet Number wear me out, beat me senseless, and then try to hit as many emotional weak spots as he could guess at, just in the hopes one of them would make me angry enough to pull out all the stops. That man has a gift for accomplishing wondrous results in the most sadistically painful of ways. I sometimes wonder if the cruelty was programmed in alongside the genius, or if he came by it honestly.
Anyway, his mad plan worked. Sure, it induced a temporary psychotic episode which almost killed Tre, but it worked, and that's what matters... to him. I'm a little less sanguine about it, and I'm definitely going to be more on my guard in the future, but what can I do?
Well, apart from apologizing to Tre, anyway.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Posts: 25,651
Threads: 2,064
Joined: Feb 2005
Reputation:
12
Bluemage Wrote:...thank you. I needed those laughs. ^^
Not sure if joking, or going to end up really, really surprised later. Joking about the hot'n'heavy luuuuuv, serious about how Tre appears to be starting to care about Prefect...
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."
- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
Posts: 588
Threads: 48
Joined: Apr 2010
Reputation:
0
This is also a story about sex, although not the athletic, tumbling, count-the-legs-and-divide-by-two kind unless the characters get totally beyond the author's control. (They might.) –Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites.
Posts: 1,452
Threads: 58
Joined: Apr 2006
Reputation:
0
Rob: There is a certain amount of respect being thrown around, yes.
Proginoskes: Pterry is right. For that to happen, the characters really would have to get away from me.
...and by 'the characters', I mean the native, non-SI ones. I'm sure as heck not going to do anything about that... or if I did, I wouldn't tell.
**********
"Tre!" She looked back, saw me trying to catch up, and slowed down a bit. "Yes, Imma?"
"I... I wanted to apologize to you. For what happened yesterday!" That stare of hers is a bit intimidating. Can't she tone it down a bit?
"Apologize?" A hint of bewilderment entered her tone, and she tilted her head to one side. "Why would you need to apologize?"
I snorted. "I saw the recordings, Tre. I know what I did yesterday." I looked down at the floor, continuing in a quieter tone. "I could've killed you."
The two of us walked a bit further, the silence around us heavy.
"Imma." I looked back up and over, meeting Tre's gaze. "Did you kill me?"
Befuddled, I shook my head.
"Then what do you have to apologize for? You weren't in control of yourself, so why would I blame you for what happened?" She paused for a second. "For that matter, why should you blame yourself? You caused no permanent harm."
I chewed that over for a few quiet seconds. I could've been stronger... not blanked out like that, not gone mad... but what would that have gotten me? If I hadn't broken then, they would've tried something else. With the flick of a mental switch, my eyes became bright gold, all my senses sharpening beyond anything I'd known before. I made a fist, squeezing with all the strength I'd been given, until I started to feel pain and see stress warnings in the corners of my eyes. They would've kept on trying, doing more and more each time, until it happened. Would I have killed her the second time? What about the third?
My train of thought was interrupted by an uncharacteristically soft voice. "If you had killed me, I wouldn't have blamed you.
Part of what I said to you yesterday was true. You were fighting like a human. I did want to kill you when we first met. I did change my mind, the day of your rebirth.
I was ordered to say the rest of it, and to do so with scorn and derision.
...If I hadn't been under those orders, I would not have done so."
I was actually touched by that. That may be the closest she's ever gotten to saying 'I'm sorry.' There's only one thing I can really say to that. Matching her softer tone, I replied, "Understood... and accepted."
At this point, Tre regained some of her usual intensity. "Training will continue as usual tomorrow morning. Do not be late." She then marched off, showing no sign of the conversation we'd just had.
I didn't sleep well at all that night... not that I need to, any longer. Realizing just why that was didn't help the problem.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Posts: 8,933
Threads: 386
Joined: May 2006
Reputation:
3
Welcome to the land of transhumanism. Enjoy your stay while you can. 
ETA: I'd probably be on cloud nine myself. The need for sleep and for regular meals tend to be... a hinderance. So much to do, so little time. :p
Posts: 588
Threads: 48
Joined: Apr 2010
Reputation:
0
Sleep is weird. We know so little about it. Anyway, don't assume that you're completely free of it just because you don't feel any symptoms of deprivation. (I may have forgotten an exchange where the Good Doctor explicitly states that you don't need sleep, in which case ignore me. Also, I'm operating on the assumption that you (and the Numbers) have organic components. If that's wrong, then the likelihood of you needing no sleep jumps dramatically (but you should still check).)
Posts: 1,452
Threads: 58
Joined: Apr 2006
Reputation:
0
Blackaeronaut: I'm more excited about the lack of eyestrain than anything else. Ability to skip sleep is a survival skill- not something I'd use regularly. I like my sleep! As for food, I need more than most, if only to power magic.
Proginoskes: What you missed was a throwaway line in StrikerS episode 8, during the bit where Teana is training herself into the ground. Subaru mentions that she can go without sleep for four or five days, even with their training schedule. I sort of thought that was too major of an ability to give to the prototypes and not the Numbers, so I assume all of us have it.
**********
Entry 29 (Day 271)
Now that I've got access to my full abilities, the CQC training has kicked into full gear. It's amazing how much you can get done when you don't need to rest, and when you barely need to sleep. We've been abusing that ability maliciously.
About a week after my... episode... Tre declared my basic CQC training finished. She made it very clear that I wasn't some sort of martial arts master now. In classic Tre fashion, this involved smacking me around the training room for ten minutes straight, until I felt like one big bruise. I'm well enough trained to survive against a master fighter, but only long enough to disengage. I can hold off the less well-trained fairly well, or defeat novices in close combat.
Now that I'm not totally hopeless without a weapon, we've moved on to armed combat training. For me, that means learning to wield Malleus in combat.
Malleus Bellum's basic form is basically an oddly shaped armored bracer. It only took a week to work that into my unarmed combat forms- basically learning to block blows with him, and add a few backfists and elbow shots to my offensives up close.
Okay, I've not had to defend myself yet today. What gives? What's she looking at?
Most days, when I show up for training, it starts the instant I walk in the door... usually by way of a surprise attack. Today started with a five minute wait while Tre watched about a dozen windows worth of data, and then a short conversation.
"I have reviewed your Device's design specifications. Starting today, I will be teaching you to use its second form in close-range combat."
Without my prompting, Malleus initiated the transformation into his second form. First, the 'nose' section of his first form disassembled itself, parts warping into whatever form of storage the Device uses. Then, the barrel section glowed blue, rearranging itself into a more typical round shape, and extending itself out about twenty inches past my knuckles.
Out of thin air, additional parts appeared around the end of Mal's barrel, assembling its new nose section. First came a reinforced rim, complete with tactical spikes, around the edge of the barrel. Then, a metal plate, locking around half the barrel, and extending out and back diagonally. From the back end of the diagonal plate came another two feet or so of armor; in this case, a flat metal sheet, half an inch thick and three inches wide, grew up and out of the barrel. The end result was an arm-mounted cannon, the side opposite my wrist armored and reinforced for combat.
For this session, Tre left her usual energy knives unsummoned; instead, a weapon rack rose out of one of the ports in the floor, carrying duplicates of Mal's current form. She took a pair of them, locking one to each arm, and settled into a stance. I took a long, hard look at her stance, walking aound her to get every detail into my memory, then took my best stab at reproducing it myself.
WHACK. "Your arms are too stiff."
SMACK. "Turn your right foot in about an inch."
WHAM. "Lower your knees."
This went on for some time.
We've been working on second-form armed combat ever since. Some of the techniques I've been taught resemble tonfa skills from back home. Others feel more like fencing, and still others feel like extensions of the unarmed skills we started with. I suppose it's fitting- Malleus is a bit of an unusual design.
[I AM AS YOU DESIGNED, MASTER]
I didn't mean it in a perjorative sense, Malleus. You're simply unique.
[ACCEPTABLE]
I should also note that learning to fight with Malleus is a significantly different experience than learning unarmed combat was. With the unarmed moves, it was more like I was shaking rust off skills I already had. These moves? Well, I understand them in theory, and I have the basic skill to put them into practice, but I don't have that sense of familiarity- the ability to know when I had the moves right or what I had wrong- I relied on before. It's slower, but much less disconcerting.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Posts: 8,933
Threads: 386
Joined: May 2006
Reputation:
3
Quote:Bluemage wrote:
Blackaeronaut: I'm more excited about the lack of eyestrain than anything else. Ability to skip sleep is a survival skill- not something I'd use regularly. I like my sleep! As for food, I need more than most, if only to power magic.
In that case, if I was in a similar situation, I'd abuse the hell out of that ability anyhow - primarily because if I were to design an intelligent device... there would be a core unit... with modular ports to equip whatever tool or weapon add-on I see fit... One support-type module and one weapon-type.
And I would probably have upped the ante by making sure that each modular add-on has its own sub-processing core.. and, if possible, even it's own power supply. I'd probably even freak Jail out a bit by designing a few mass-weapons. 'Cause AMFs aren't enough of a bitch without adding slug throwers into the mix. *Cackles*
The maraschino cherry on top would be the capability to store a set number of modular add-ons for quick and easy access in the heat of battle.
Certainly, the jobs these modules do may be performed by a certain spell... but the advantage is that I wouldn't even have to prime the spell. I'd just have to say 'go'.
And this schpiel I've been going on would be just the tip of the iceberg. I'd be spending weeks at a time engineering, designing, testing, and eventually producing these modules. And all with the rabid fascination of an obsessive compulsive perfectionist on crack.
As for food... I'd eat like Goku. "And to think, he doesn't even need to digest it right away!"
Posts: 1,452
Threads: 58
Joined: Apr 2006
Reputation:
0
It was dark in Scaglietti's lab, for the most part. The primary lighting had been dialed back to what most people would describe as 'dim'. Even in my old life, I'd've been comfortable with it, but as I am now? Might as well have been day.
There were two well-lit spots in the room. One of them was the doctor's lair, where he and Uno worked. I'd seen the vid records of my own rebirth; judging by the difference in how the two of them operated, whatever they were doing at the moment was significantly less urgent- maybe even routine.
The other pretty much answered all my questions, right then and there- another of the doctor's people jars. The sides were frosted at the moment, so I couldn't see anything more than a body- thank goodness!, my modesty said- but it's not like I had to. The big ol' Roman numeral V made it obvious enough.
So, I finally get to work with Cinque. It'll be good to have some more company around this place.
Even as I watched, the liquid in the tank drained. Cinque soon found herself standing on the grating at the bottom of the tank. She stood there for a few seconds, time enough, I imagined, for her to look out into the room, to see her creator working his console, her brother and sisters silently welcoming her to the world-
-and then she was somewhere else. Jar number V slowly refilled itself, and the lighting in the room returned to normal.
Some few minutes later, Tre was still standing at attention. Uno had bustled off into the complex, and the doctor was reviewing some arcane set of measurements (occasionally chuckling to himself every so often). Me? I'd sat down and mentally pulled up my latest read ( On the Connections Between the Dimensional Spheres, the definitive work on dimensional transit magic) thirty seconds after Uno left the room.
Another minute or two passed, and I'd started to get antsy. How long could this take? Tre's still here, so it can't be *too* long, but this is getting to be a bit much!
Thankfully, I didn't have to wait much longer. Soon enough, I heard the whoosh of a door opening, and two different walking patterns. A thought put my mental 'bookmark' in place, and I stood up, turning to face the new arrivals.
Uno was Uno, of course. No surprises there. Cinque, though... you know how odd it is when somebody you know changes their hairstyle for the first time in years, or what it's like when you see somebody without their glasses for the first time?
I'd never, never seen Cinque without an eyepatch. Never really considered it, either, despite knowing she wouldn't need one until 0067. It was kind of part of what made Cinque Cinque in my mind, you know? Seeing her without it... well, I wasn't paying attention to much else for a few seconds, I'll say that much.
"My children! Allow me to introduce you to your newest sister- Cinque!"
Overdramatic much, Doc? Save it for when there's a few more of us.
Cinque looked around the room, slowly and methodically taking it all in, before looking over the people in it. The doctor and Uno got only a glance each. Tre elicited half a second of evaluation, a blink, and another look. I was apparently worth half of that, if I timed it right. What, not even a blink? Note to self: up my threat level.She may not have thought me much of a threat, but Cinque clearly didn't expect to be swept up in a hug when she entered the room. I felt her tense up for an instant- instinctively, no doubt- before... well, I can't call it relaxing, but she did stop tensing up. After I let her go, I smiled at her, and said, in the fondest voice I could summon, "Welcome to the family."
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Posts: 4,892
Threads: 302
Joined: Jul 2010
Reputation:
8
Well.... that's an interesting point in the order you come in.
Then again, wasn't the evil one awakened late?
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
Posts: 1,452
Threads: 58
Joined: Apr 2006
Reputation:
0
Dartz: I had to pick a point early enough for me to learn the right skills, but late enough for the combat cyborg program (and Project F) to be things. Pushing it back to 0060 might've been more believable, but I really wanted to get in some experience before Quattro.
Incidentally, the first part of the order is I, II, III, V, VI, IV, X. I-the-author, off the top of my head, remember that, that the last three all came a year before StrikerS, and that the other two were more like three years before.
**********
Entry 31 (Day 327)
Life isn't fair. Yes, I was already aware of that. Yes, I'm a lot better off than many- with where I am and what I've been doing, denying that would be insanity.
Still. There's always somebody luckier than you are, better off than you are, or just plain better than you are... and I've just been losing to one.
Cinque is, to put it bluntly, a monster. She may only be my size, but she's got two major advantages.
1.) She was born with master-level knife-fighting skills, and;2.) She was built to use them to the max.
Put us in a sparring match together, and you end up with one beat-up Ford, a bunch of daggers and craters strewn all over, and a Cinque whose hair isn't even mussed.
I tried keeping her at arm's length with Malleus and my almost-acceptable skill at armed close combat. No luck there. I tried using my considerably-more-polished unarmed skills. Those worked a bit better... emphasis on 'bit'. I even tried magic.
Another note to self- make a wide-area bombardment spell before trying that again.
Thankfully, I'll not be taking any lessons from her. I asked. Tre will be handling the last of my close-combat instruction, and then I'll be permitted to focus on magical development... finally. I've been having ideas, you see...
Entry 32 (Day 365)
One year. One year, to the day, since I was sent into dimensional space.
Looking back on it, I'm not sure whether I should be ashamed, thrilled, or worried. I've not horribly screwed myself over, as best I can tell, and I'm sitting on quite a bit of power, so that's a plus. If I play my cards right, I should be in a good position to Get Things Done... that, and I got MAGIC. I can't emphasize the Awesome value of that enough.
On the other hand, I'm one year into my time here, and what have I accomplished? I've not horribly broken the magic system, created lulwut-powerful equipment, or even started on a VN swarm, for crying out loud! If I still have my SB card, I'll be relieved.
As for worry, I've got less than fifteen years until the fit hits the shan. Will I be ready for it? CAN I be ready for it?! I've made plans, but anybody with a brain knows better than to just trust in a plan... even if it's a good one. Even if I have a handful of them. Even if most of them don't require me to actually defeat anybody.
Ah, well. No sense winding myself into knots over it now. Nothing I can do but move forward/onward/upward, do everything I can to make myself ready, and have a load of contingency plans for if things don't work out.
Speaking of moving forward, I just got my second spell finished... not that that's much of an achievement. I've written about how every mage has to math out their own spells, yes? Well, Dimensional Transfer is sort of an exception. The basic equations for the most efficient known method are freely available to everybody, mostly because no one mage can cast any other version.
(No, I don't know all the details. What I know is that space-time manipulation magic ends up being either relatively practical or staggeringly expensive to cast, depending on what you're trying to do, and how efficient the method used is. Apparently, most mages need the most efficient DT equations to make it practical.)
All I had to do was take that basic math, and build a control structure around it- make it something I could alter, direct, and command on more than an academic level. Not being an idiot, I also threw in some obfuscations, some idiosyncratic command requirements, and a few of my flash bitz, just in case. It only took about three days.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Posts: 1,452
Threads: 58
Joined: Apr 2006
Reputation:
0
"This is planet P3X-873."
The holographic globe that appeared in front of us looked thoroughly uninteresting. P3X-873 was apparently a desert world, someplace in between Mars and the worst parts of the American Southwest in terms of barren unpleasantness. The relevant facts and figures (thoughtfully provided in the space to the right of the globe- a neat trick, since the four of us were standing around it) only backed up that impression. No life, no valuable resources, .83G, barely breathable atmo, and average temp of 12 C. What a delightful place to go....now, since I'm fairly sure we're not going there to pick up eggs, milk, and bread, why *would* we be going there? If this were the anime, it'd be a Relic- no question. As it is, this could be anything from a Relic heist to a flash raid.
"As you can see, the planet itself is essentially worthless. It's too poor to mine, too barren to midform, too remote for the military, and too well-known for most criminal organizations. Its only redeeming value... is this."
The holo changed. In place of P3X-873 was a rather familiar image- a faceted red stone, smaller red stones floating inexplicably at its corners. A Relic. Great. At least we're not after something dangerous, like an unsealed Jewel Seed. All I have to do is not shoot it, and everything will work out.
"For the last two years, P3X-873 has played host to an independent archaeological team. Twenty-eight hours ago, we retrieved this image from their computer systems. It matches a class of Lost Logia generally referred to as 'Relics'.
Needless to say, the Doctor has an interest in them... which is where the three of you come in." Really, Uno? He wants ALL THE THINGS- we all know this. Why repeat it? She waved one hand, and the image changed again- this time, to an impressively detailed landscape.
"This is a model of the target camp." She pointed to the ridiculously large tent- the thing had to cover at least a city block!- in the middle of the camp. "And this is the dig site. Analysis of the expedition's logs suggests that the majority of their team will be thirty or more meters underground during work hours. If you strike then, resistance should be limited."
Uno pointed at another, significantly smaller building, fairly close to the main tent. "According to our drone scans, a highly concentrated magical signature is currently inside this building. The Doctor and I have been unable to conclusively identify it as the Relic, however. If the Relic has already been sealed, it won't show up on our scans; you'll have to either take a hostage, or search the encampment manually."
Another wave of her hand, and the model shrank to a fourth of its normal size. It then split into four duplicate models, each of which changed to a false-color rendering of the area, complete with a number of brighter blobs scattered around. What sort of scan is this?
"As you can see here, your opposition consists of twenty-two humans, eighteen of which are mages. None of them appear to be over B-rank. These scans were made over the last local day, and should give you a basic understanding of the local routine."
"This," Uno said, tapping one scan, "appears to be the camp at rest. Notice how the signatures are distributed across all the outer buildings, and how these two occupy the towers here and here." As she spoke, she tapped the towers in question, causing true-color images of them to pop up next to the model.
Shoving that model to the side, Uno pulled another scan to the center. "And this image," she said, "shows us what the camp looks like during digging hours. Two mages in the towers, four mages in their quarters, two normals in the camp, and everybody else in the central tent." She gave us a few seconds to record and evaluate the image, before swapping it out for the other two scans. "These images were taken in the time between the camp's sleep and dig cycles. According to them, this building here," she said, tapping a larger structure near the main tent, "looks to be a combination of social center and mess hall. The only signatures that aren't there are the six watchmen... which we've identified as employees of a small-time private security firm. High-level civilians."
Uno looked straight at each of us in turn. "Their watch follows a standard three-shift schedule. Shift change, as best we can tell, is immediately before each meal." She pulled the standard model of the camp back up, set the false-color scans of it back to quarter-size, and took a step back.
Tre looked over the four recorded images. "What time is it currently?"
Uno pulled up another display. "At the camp? Currently 2420. P3X-873 has a twenty-six-hour day, so you have one hundred minutes until the next shift change. The archaeologists should begin work seven hours after that."
Tre nodded. "Understood." She stood there for a minute or so, looking over the camp. Occasionally, she'd reach out, rotating the model, trying to get a feel for every angle of it. At one point, she even turned it on one side, so she could get a God's-eye view of it all. Finally, she double-tapped the model, letting it fly back to its original position.
"Assume that every mage in the camp has high-end civilian equipment. Overlay their hypothetical sensor ranges onto the map." A bewildering array of colored shapes appeared over the 3D image- I could make out spheres centered on the guard towers, but the rest of it was beyond me. Tre had no problem with it, though.
After a moment to ponder the new information, she tapped a spot near the edge of the camp. "Here. This is our insertion point. We go in at 0400 local time, neutralize the guards, and make for the Relic. If it's not in the storage building, this", she said, tapping a building with only one mage signature in it, "is our secondary target. We interrogate the resident, find out what they know, and retrieve the Relic based on that.
Do either of you have any questions?"
Nobody spoke up.
"Then you're dismissed. Report to the transport chamber at 0345."
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Posts: 2,238
Threads: 136
Joined: Dec 2008
Reputation:
0
Odds that Yuuno is at this dig site?
-----
Stand between the Silver Crystal and the Golden Sea.
"Youngsters these days just have no appreciation for the magnificence of the legendary cucumber." --Krityan Elder, Tales of Vesperia.
Posts: 1,452
Threads: 58
Joined: Apr 2006
Reputation:
0
Jorlem: Irrelephant. He's four years old.
Clearly, the Scrya are the only group that does archaeology in dimensional space, and the clan is so small that they brought along children to a dig site like this.
**********
The local teleportarium wasn't appreciably different than any other room in the complex. It was actually a bit smaller than many of the labs, and noticably more circular, but had the exact same style to it. There wasn't any visible machinery, either- just an open space.
We all stood on the dais at the end of the room... and then, in an instant that took at least ten seconds, were in the camp. At least, I assumed it was the camp. Without using my enhanced vision, I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face.
Needless to say, I was using all the advantages of my new body from there on out.
Instants after we appeared, the three of us went our separate ways. I saw Tre take to the air, flying low and slow between the tents and prefab shelters of the base. Cinque took the more traditional approach, running off to the other side of the main tent. How can she run silently, anyway? That don't make no sense.
Not being that skilled, I quietly skulked off towards the storage room. I'd always been good at moving quietly; with my new body, I'd been able to take that talent to the next level. I'm not totally silent, nor can I go full speed that way, but I made it to the dig's storage room quietly enough and quickly enough.
The building was, oddly enough, unlocked. Instantly on my guard, I slowly, quietly pushed open the door, praying to Eris that it wouldn't make a squeak and alert whoever was in there. My prayers were answered; the door opened silently, and I crept in, ready to unleash Malleus on... absolutely nobody. Seriously? They just left their storage room UNLOCKED?!I guess it makes sense. After all, who would attack an unimportant expedition on a useless planet in the middle of nowhere? Why bother?
...says the guy attacking an unimportant expedition on a useless planet in the middle of nowhere.
The room itself, once I got over the complete lack of security enough to scan it, was a cluttered mess. The walls were covered in shelves, all packed full of boxes, crates, and random knickknacks. There was a table in the middle of the room, propped up by crates full of recovered artifacts, and covered in the same. The scan showed a major magical signature in the middle of the room... somewhere on the table?
I couldn't see anything Relic-ish from the door, so I moved into the room, carefully working my way around the table. A few steps in, I had to dismiss my cape- the stuff was piled in so deep, I would've snagged it if I hadn't.
Finally, in the back end of the room, I hit pay dirt. A section of the table had been cleared off- in quite the hurry, if the heap of stuff sitting nearby was any guide- and next to that empty spot sat a fat, octagonal metal case. Bingo... I hope. I'd best check, just to be sure.
I set the case down on one side, touched the side of it (letting it take a bit of mana from me), and carefully lifted the lid.
A red gem, cut into a twelve-sided prism ( looking all the world like a Crystal Castle d4, some traitorous part of my mind commented) floated in the middle of the case, four smaller gems floating alongside it. I've found it... and it's kinda stupid-looking. Oh, well. Guess I should just close this up and get back to the extraction point.
I managed to get the case sealed up before it hit- the low, rumbling boom of an explosion someplace relatively close. Okay, something's blowing up. Where, and why?
{CLANG}{THUMPTHUMPTHUMP}
...I'm getting the feeling it's inside the camp somewhere. Oddly enough, it feels like being buried in boxes of ancient Belkan junk.
Oh, and by the way, OW.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Posts: 2,238
Threads: 136
Joined: Dec 2008
Reputation:
0
Quote:Bluemage wrote:
Jorlem: Irrelephant. He's four years old.
Clearly, the Scrya are the only group that does archaeology in dimensional space, and the clan is so small that they brought along children to a dig site like this.
**********
Well, given he was apparently working on his own by the age of nine, I don't see the possibility of him being present at this age as too much of a stretch.
-----
Stand between the Silver Crystal and the Golden Sea.
"Youngsters these days just have no appreciation for the magnificence of the legendary cucumber." --Krityan Elder, Tales of Vesperia.
|
