The Shard Alchemist (Worm, OC)

Zerrer · Aug 11, 2022

This is a new quest I'm starting here on QQ, and one I'm pretty excited about. In short, it's a quest where you're trapped in a Quarantine Zone, as a Tinker with an extremely narrow, yet powerful specialization: Powers. Steal them, remix them, feed them to allies. The sky's the limit. The first update will be all story-based, due to the need to establish what's going on, and the second will involve actual vote prompts and such.

Five miles east to west. Seven miles north to south. That's what you're limited to.

There used to be a river. There also used to be a lake nearby. A reservoir, with a dam and everything.

There was a time when you'd looked at the horizon and saw more than the wall.

You put your palm onto it- the cold, heartless concrete and rebar, standing amidst the ruins that once were houses, streets, sidewalks- all bulldozed and shoved away from the wall. All of it locking you away from the outside world.

It's just the first layer of defense. There's a second- an empty zone of no-man's-land, a mile long. Then a second wall, only with guard towers. Gun emplacements. Capes.

Your name is Lucas Delaune. And you're one of the one-hundred-twenty thousand souls trapped here. Or at least, you were. You wouldn't know how many's left by now. Twenty thousand? Ten thousand? Even both of those seem pretty high for the abandoned houses, empty streets, empty cars.

A crack like thunder has you suddenly aware and alert. You look up, and see a figure, slim and thin, shooting through the sky. There's another crack- and it's suddenly elsewhere in the sky, coming down toward you. Another crack- and it's even closer, falling through the sky. A fourth crack-

And a figure in black leather lands on the ground. She's slim, and very fit, a black motorcycle helmet. She keeps running, slowing down and panting for a moment. She wheezes, and you toss her a pitcher of water. She drinks it greedily, then wordlessly, silently, flickers in place. The pitcher is gone- and instead, in her hands is a black crate. Latches and a handle.

You take it. It looks very durable, but surprisingly light for how big it is.

"This is it?"

"Yeah," She says. "Is it safe to get this close?" She asks, glancing warily at the wall.

"This spot has a dead sensor, somewhere." You respond. "Missus Garcia told me about it."

"Good," She pants for a moment- then glances back. "Shit, I think they figured out my trajectory. Will you be safe?"

"I'll go into the sewers," You say, and she wrinkles her nose. "Nah, it's all long-dry. It'll be safe there, and I can get back to the safehouse from there."

"Is it worth risking your spot with the waterboys?" She asks.

"... They won't let me through again, once they hear about this," you respond.

"I'll lead them off, then double back," She says.

"Take care, Skipper."

She tilts her head for a moment. You'd known her long enough to know that there was a wink behind that helmet. She takes a few steps back, and then begins to run. Picking up velocity, and momentum. She kicks off a piece of rubble, and jumps upward, back toward thecenter of town- and then there's a crack like thunder, and she reappears for a moment, still moving upward and away, in the sky. Another crack, she's even further up… Up and away.

You glance down at the black case she'd dropped off.

Stolen from Tyrant, one of the biggest assholes left in this city. One of the assholes thriving. One of those fucking capes that were happy with the status quo. Happy with this fucking wall, in this fucking prison.

You could hear people yelling and coming close- and you ran toward the storm drain that would be your exit.

"Lucas?" One of the guards ask. He's wearing a bright blue handkerchief- a sign he was with the Waterboys. You wave back, brandishing my own handkerchief- one you keep stuffed in your pocket. "What do you have there?"

"David," you wave, "It's just some salvage, I was digging through the suburbs, and found some electronics in a box. Thought I might be able to piece together another computer."

"What, really? Sweet!" He says. Then he frowns again. "You look like you're in a hurry."

"Yeah, well… Tyrant's men saw I had it, and they wanted to take it from me," You respond.

"... I can't… You know that we're supposed to be neutral. Split up whatever Waterfall produces, and give it out equally to each group. You can't use the courier routes for personal business."

"It's just a bit of salvage." you lie, "It's not tinkertech or anything. And they never saw my face. It'll be fine. Most people don't even know the courier routes exist."

"... Dude." He sighs. "Yeah, I'll let you through. But this is the last time. And I'll have to tell Garcia about it."

Shit. That means it might be your last day as a waterboy. But you smile and nod, stepping past him, almost picking up into a run.

It will definitely be worth it.

You quietly creak open the door from the basement, looking up into the dusty, boarded up house. You can hear the television running- the subtle high pitched whine of a CRT that doesn't quite work properly. It's a familiar sound, one you'll soon be able to drown out with music.

You make your way up the stairs, and there he is. Your brother. Michael.

"Hey, Mike." You say. "I'm home."

He doesn't respond. His figure is hunched forward, eyes staring unerringly into the static of the television screen. It isn't connected to cable or anything- it's all white noise, but he seems entranced.

His head is cracked, blackened skin near the edges of the 'cracks', and blue light is shining out, crackling with an inner lightning. His hand is placed atop a repurposed generator, and it's chugging along with no visible power source- static crackling from his fingertips. Through his eyes, nostrils, and lips, the same blue light crackles. His brain is glowing- like the rest of the Broken.

Ever since Tyrant had his way with your brother, he hasn't been the same. Turned from human minion into a cape… But something had gone wrong. Turned him into this instead. Broke him. Gone were the smiles, gone were the laughs, the crude jokes. It's been a year. He hasn't eaten a bite of food, or drank a drop. But his body keeps on going, fueled by whatever his power had given him.

There were Broken all throughout the city, if you know where to look. Once upon a time they'd been a member of a gang. The Firebirds. Highway. MedCent. Promising minions, once upon a time. But then something went wrong, and they were turned into these things. Walking corpses. Mindless zombies.

It had taken you and Katie- You and Skipper- months to figure out how, why. The black boxes. They contained… something. Somehow turning normal people into capes. A limited amount, or it only made a little bit at a time. The more you got, the stronger your power was. Trooper. Balrog. Guyver. The best and strongest must have had the most. But as time went on, the newer capes are just getting weaker. Barely anything. They're getting weak powers… or becoming Broken.

You set the box down at the table, and flick open the latches.

You pull it open, taking a breath-

And then you're staring at a human brain. Pulsating, electronics keeping it moving, filling the plastic bag with fluid-

You… don't know what to do about this. You thought it might be a potion. Like a big glass vial you could drink the rest of. Or some weird alien artifact you could wear. Or something. But this is just… life support for someone's brain.

You don't know what the fuck this is. Or who the- what- you don't-

The world seems to tilt.

All that risk… Skipper would never be able to show her face anywhere near Tyrant's territory again. Near anyone's territory. After the heist, they'd kill her if they found her.

All the time you spent- the time you wasted. You'd burned your last bridges with the Waterboys. No more Courier jobs for you. No more delivering water to people in need. No more skimming off the top, or walking freely through town.

All for this brain..

Good thing, because you must have been fucking missing yours.

"They ate him." Comes a quiet, whispering voice.

"... Michael?"

Your brother isn't looking at the television anymore. Now he's looking at the brain.

"Piece by piece. The toes and fingers came first." He murmurs. "Then all that was left was the parts they kept alive. The brain. The heart. The arm."

You look back.

"He took fire from the gods. So now his fellow man picks away at his liver. Bite by bite." Your brother says.

Then he glances back at the television.

You look down at the brain.

If your brother was right. If he wasn't just rambling- if his broken mind was trying to help… Maybe he knew something you didn't.

This time, you take a breath. Pull over a lamp- plugged into your brother's generator- and flick on the light, taking a closer look.

You don't understand the tinkertech parts of it, the part keeping him alive. But you'd seen Moreau's work before. She'd worked on this, that's clear.

But the rest was added afterwards. Mundane technology. Stuff you can understand.

They're pumping some kind of saline solution through the brain. Running it through, and what's coming out the other end is tinged slightly with pink. Then it's being filtered, and… the blood is being siphoned out, into a glass vial at the side.

The brain is producing more blood from nothing, and this is designed to isolate it.

That's where the rumour of red potions came from. Moreau, Heckton, Tyrant… They were feeding their minions the blood of whatever cape this had once been. And it was becoming less effective.

Bite by bite. This cape's flesh… gave powers. The blood was losing effectiveness, but… the brain was the heart of where cape powers came from, wasn't it? The something-Gemma?

Carefully, trembling, you grab a retractable box cutter out of your toolbox, and slice the container open.

You glanced outside, through the boarded windows. The wall still loomed over you. Maybe, if you consumed all of it- the rest of the cape- you'd get something powerful.

Maybe something strong enough to protect you and Katie from Tyrant.

Maybe something to get the fuck out of here.

Maybe something to help you fix your brother.

You take a deep breath, and begin.

It's all to get the hell out of Flint, Michigan.

Zerrer · Aug 11, 2022

[DESTINATION]

[ILLEGAL]

[BYPASS]

[DISAGREEMENT]

[BYPASS]

[AGREEMENT]

You jerk to consciousness, sitting up.

The television set is still blaring static behind you, your brother stationary, as always. He doesn't seem to have any physical needs, due to his power, but you still like to check on him now and then.

"You doing alright, man?" You ask, your voice hoarse. He doesn't respond, peering into the white noise. "Okay. If you need anything, just tell me."

You clear your throat, and glance back at the table. Where the… object had once been. Tinkertech, pumping devices, glass vials, and a pair of AA batteries powering the thing.

It's not there anymore. Somehow, while you were out- after you were done- some strange, alien mania had taken over you.

You're looking at a syringe. The sort of syringe from someone's nightmares. Like someone had fused together a gas pump, replacing the nozzle of the device with a long, sharp needle. You'd made it from a long-nosed lighter. Glassworks and tubing from the container. Some spare electronics you had on hand, a few magnets… and the contents of the container.

It has the look of tinkertech, so you shouldn't know what it does. But you do. Something in your mind whispering, telling you that all you have to do is insert the needle into the brain of your subject, through the nose or ear.

Simple business to extract the shard uplink organ. Fluid will fill the glass container… And you'll have it. A power in a bottle. Stolen from the target. Able to… be remixed. Centrifuged. Interfaced with.

The possibilities in this little device are endless.

Something behind you bangs, and the door opens. For a second, you get ready to bolt- but relax when you see the figure in the motorcycle helmet and black leather. She pulls off her helmet, and tosses it onto the couch next to your brother.

Katie is tall. Long-legged. She'd be a model, if it weren't for the ragged, long scar curving around her cheek and up into her hairline. She keeps her frayed, black hair short in a frayed, wild bob. Almond eyes and a button nose. Your brother's girlfriend.

Her pollentia gemma is exactly between two lobes you don't know the name of. You can reach it through the left ear, if she holds still enough.

"Katie." You say, shaking off the urge.

"Lucas. You … okay?" She asks. "You look a little out of it. How about the box? What happened with it?"

"... It worked." You say. "I have a power now."

"Really?" She asks. "What can you do? Can we get out of here?"

"Your power's natural," You say.. "And you can teleport. If you can't get out of here, why would you think I could?"

"... I dunno," She says, a little quieter. "You're dodging the question. What can you do?"

"I'm a tinker."

"What can you make?" She leans in- and glances past me, at the needle.

You close your eyes for a moment. Blueprints flicker in your mind. "Things that mess with powers. This needle lets me steal them, turn them into potions that anyone could drink."

She meets your eyes. "No way."

"Yeah."

"Then-" Her eyes widen, and she turns toward Michael, hope in her eyes.

"... No." You say. His pollentia gemma is… Elsewhere. Through the portal in his skull. You're not sure how you know that, but by looking at him, you just do. Nothing you can build- at this point, anyway- would survive the transit. "I can't help him. Not- not right now. Not yet."

"Yet." She says, and lets go of a breath. "Still. We fucked over Tyrant. Got revenge. Mission accomplished."

"Yeah. We should lay low a few days," You say, looking out at your tools and scraps you'd been collecting, 'recycling' them into useful things for people. Already, you can see how you'd build a workbench… "I have a thing I should probably build, and then…" You rail off.

"Then what?" She asks.

"We need a long-term plan," You say. "I can build stuff, but I need stuff to build more stuff, and…"

"You also need a name," She adds, and you give her a look. "What? We can't go around calling you Lucas. And most tinkers have to use their own equipment, so you'll need to go out there. Trust me, I was undercover with Tyrant for months."

"Alright, we can add that to the list. But first, Long term goals."

"Fix Mikey." She responds, holding up one finger, "Escape," She adds, holding up the other. "Boom. Quests established. Now how do we get there, Tinkerboy?"

"Time, resources, and… people to steal powers from," I said. "I need powers to do stuff with, I'm… pretty sure. Otherwise a bunch of the things I'll build won't do anything."

Together, the two of you put your heads together and brainstorm.

AN: I'll almost always be allowing write-in options. Feel free to vote for anything, or multiple options. The options with the majority vote will usually be taken first.

[] Ambush or lure a cape from one of the three big gangs, and have Skipper knock them out.
[] Pretend to join one of the big gangs, and then when you find someone alone.
[] No, you're getting ahead of yourself. Focus on your tinkering, first. You need resources. Trash, junk, etc. Skipper can steal some food and water from the next airdrop.
[] No, you're getting ahead of yourself. Make sure the device actually works. Experiment with Katie's power. You can always give it back to her, after all. Right?
[] Something else? (Write-in)

Eyemore · Aug 11, 2022