Sitting down to eat, Mark kinda felt like a kid at a high table. His feet barely touched the floor, which was strange for him, but altogether how it used to be, back before he got Healthy Body and gained almost a full foot of height. He might have been big for a person, but he wasn’t nearly as big as Sally or the other guys and girls in this joint.
This was a place for giants.
Sally looked right at home, sitting at a table that was fully sized for her, and sized for all the other giants walking around the place. Sally’s eyes sparkled as she looked at the menu and at the big plates of food held on massive hands as the Giant Strength-having waiter walked by, food sizzling.
Sally confessed to Mark, “There was a place like this in Crytalis that I didn’t get to eat at before I met my team and we moved on to Harbordock over by Okuana. There just aren’t enough big people to make it work.”
Mark looked over and saw one big table was filled with normal-sized people, seven of them, sharing three sandwiches and sides cut up into smaller portions. There didn’t seem to be a big enough giant population here, either, but… Mark said, “I guess there’s a big enough want here?”
And then the waiter showed up and smiled brightly at Sally and glanced at Mark, asking, “What can I get you t— Holy fuck.” The guy stared at Mark, and then his face went red with embarrassment. “Sorry, sorry. Uh. What can I get you, two, uh, Brother Blackvein, and guest?”
Ah. Mark had been made.
Not an altogether unexpected development. He had been noticed several times today already.
But this was the first time that Sally got to see this happen.
Sally had a surreal moment. She sat there, blinking, her mouth open to say something but her words dead in her throat. She made a little frog-like noise, and then she shut her mouth.
Mark grinned and said, “I think I’ll have the patty melt, thank you.”
“Full size patty melt!” The guy smiled a whole lot as he tapped away at his pad, and then he asked Sally, “And for you?”
Mark meant to say ‘half-size’, but he could eat… sure. Sally could eat whatever he didn’t eat, anyway.
Sally was still having a moment.
The waiter asked her, “Ma’am?”
In a rapid, awkward sort of way, Sally confessed, “I’ll have, uh, the same.”
The guy smiled and nodded, and then said, “Drinks are over there by the counter. I’ll get your food right out to you!”
- -
A while later, after Mark had eaten half of his food and Sally had had the rest, they were at another store, looking at AI housing for Mark, for Quark. The store mostly left Sally and Mark alone.
In a quiet moment, after the salesman left, Sally asked, “Does that happen… a lot?”
Mark knew exactly what she was talking about, but he just smiled and asked, “What?”
Sally’s face was a little red. “You know damned well ‘what’.”
Mark smiled and teased her, “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Sally straightened up and put away her embarrassment. “Fine. Don’t answer me.”
“Ohhh! You mean being recognized? Yes. A lot. It’s the hair and eyes. I have been thinking about bleaching my hair, but then I chicken out. The eyes just are what they are.”
Sally breathed deeply. “… Right.”
“It’s taken some getting used to, and I am still not used to it, but I’ve only really encountered that one Mind Controller who tried to murder me. She didn’t recognize me until after that all went down, though.” Mark casually said, “But there have been 16 people so far today that have thought about jumping me. One time, two months ago, a speedster tried to come through and take some adamantium and they got their hand ripped apart instead. I put that guy down onto the ground as I healed him and waited for the cops to show. That guy rapidly figured out who I was when he woke up, and he voluntarily went into a rehab facility.” Mark waved a hand. “All stuff barely worth mentioning, really.”
Sally stared at the merchandise behind the wall of glass, but she wasn’t really looking at the AI housing at all. “… Uh huh.”
- -
Mark balanced a spear in his hands. His feet were firm upon the concrete ground, the lights high above buzzing slightly. He stood in the testing area of a weapons shop; an open lot behind the store, but boxed in to protect it from the elements.
Sally stood to the side, along with the vendor, who was a young woman in her thirties who was literally a quarter of the size of Sally. Sally was a giant woman, and it would probably take Mark a while to come to terms with how much she had changed. Mark had changed, too, but not nearly as much… physically, anyway.
Mark focused on the spear.
He twisted the weapon in his grip, feeling the heft of it all. It was a pretty standard spear, with the head shaped like a leaf and a pair of catches on the sides to prevent the weapon from going in too far. It could cut, if you were careful with it. Mostly it stabbed and the enemy bled to death, which was how Mark killed the hard-to-kill things. The metal part of the spear only extended about 30 centimeters from the tip, encasing the wood in a no-nonsense kind of way. There was no adornment. This was a working weapon. It wasn’t high tier at all, and it wasn’t really the weapon that was for sale. It was a model; indicative of the real weapon that the vendor could make, if Mark commissioned its creation.
He could buy this one if he wanted it, though.
Mark liked the look of the spear; the quality of the woman’s craft. The woman had a Knack for Joining, which was kind of a weird Knack, but not that weird. It allowed the vendor to make multiple things come together to form one thing, very well, and she was very good with her Knack.
He spun the spear a few times and then jabbed and feinted against an imaginary opponent, twisting out of an imaginary lunge, the weapon an extension of his body that he swept in the opposite direction of his movement, as though he was pushing something that had gotten too close; redirecting its forward momentum away from his core. He finished the movement. He stabbed the air a few times.
And then Mark just stood there, holding the thing, looking at it. The weapon had no ornamentation, but it did have some etchings in the shaft and the head. That’s where the alchemical silver would flow and catch, temporarily raising the weapon up to tier 5-ish, depending on the freshness of the silver and the capability of the alchemist who made the silver. But even if you had a really good batch of alchemical silver, as soon as you cracked the seal on one of those pots you sometimes had 15 hours, or 5 hours, before it degraded, and it was near impossible to know which timeframe you got.
Sometimes you got a coating of silver that lasted weeks, for some bizarre reasons. Mark had never had that happen to him, but it had happened to other people. Those people usually sold the silvered weapons to an alchemist or other buyer, so that those alchemists could figure out why the silver lasted that long.
Or at least those were the rumors around alchemical silver.
Mark looked at the spear in his hands and asked, “What sort of PL could I get out of a commissioned weapon?”
The vendor explained, “Depending on how much you want to spend, I can get materials up to PL 30. I do have models ready for sale today, if you want. I can hand you a spear just like that one in your hands made of softwood and softsteel, which is PL 18. If you want something heavier, then there’s emberbranch and blacksteel. Alchemical silver will take you the rest of the way to PL 50-ish.”
“How much is a blacksteel spear?”
“2990 leaf.”
Mark stared at the weapon in his hands, and then he said, “I want to see the blacksteel one.”
The woman nodded.
Mark didn’t end up buying that one.
- -
On the road, Sally asked, “You looked like you really wanted it, though?”
Mark took a moment to think about why he didn’t buy the spear, and then he said, “I want to learn how to forge. I was once told that no one would want a weapon forged from someone with just a Talent for metalshaping, and that kinda stuck with me.” Mark glanced up at Sally, adding, “And what you said about attaching electronics to mana crystals to make magic got stuck in my head, too. That seems neat, and all of that is probably connected.”
Sally looked at the sky a little as they walked, her thoughts somewhere else for a moment, as she said, “You have to deal with mages to get the crystals, but that’s not so bad.”
Mark was suddenly aware of the fact that he knew where the mana crystals came from, and Sally did not. People monsterized when they cultivated crystals improperly, though, so… Mark would not tell Sally about that. Not yet, anyway. She might try cultivating her own ‘giant strength’ mana, whatever that might be… And now that Mark was thinking about it, what was ‘Giant Strength’ mana made of? Surely it wasn’t just… ‘Giant Strength’?
Mark said, “I’m sure mana crystals can’t be that hard to get.”
Sally seemed to agree with that, because she nodded as she said, “The hardest problem I had was finding a crafter for a few things I wanted, like always-clean underwear and dry socks. Everywhere I went, all the stores were always out of stuff in my size.”
Mark started laughing. “Couldn’t find any big girl panties, huh?”
“No, I couldn’t!” Sally said, with mirth. “I went through all ten pairs I bought in Crytalis because I fucked up my Tactile Tel—” She shut her mouth and glanced around.
Mark raised an eyebrow— “Ah.” He understood. Mark said, “Curtain Protocol isn’t in effect here. This is a hero district.”
“Old habits, I guess. Being with the family kinda… It was like a splash of cold water, with the younger cousins there. It was a question if I should even show up to the family Christmas, you know?”
“I can imagine. I don’t think we ever saw any Giant Strength people at Gladegrove at all. Maybe like how we didn’t see any people with any weird features… like at all.” Mark added, “I’m glad you managed to see them.”
“Me, too. I’m never going back under Curtain Protocol if I can help it. That shit… I got hives after being on Daihoon for a month because I was so damned nervous about everything. They just have people flying through the sky there and signs on the walls that tell people to stay clear of the middle lanes of traffic because some speedster is gonna come through and you need to get out of the way unless you’re rated at PL 80 or above. The numbers are just out in the open over there, Mark. I saw a whole family that was permanently on fire! That was their Power. Permafire…” Her voice drifted away. Sally quietly said, “I wish you could have been there. You were in the coma.”
Mark smiled softly. “I wish I could have been there, too.”
He would have just been a fucking brawny, though, if he hadn’t met Addashield, and then he never would have been able to party with Sally at all. If you asked Mark, then Sally was the one who truly lucked out. Giant Strength was big time Power!
Mark didn’t say that, though… and even having that thought felt kinda… weird, to have.
Hmm.
Mark changed the subject, saying, “And if you, as a hunter, make and spent 500k at the settlement then you get a million points, and you can spend those points on an obsidian card, which gets you a lifetime 25% off at all Artificer’s Guild locations, which is, you know, the big magic item making conglomerate. So that’s why I don’t want to spend too much right now.”
Sally’s eyes went wide. “Holy fuck, that’s… That’s a big deal!”
“Yeah it is! And...”
The conversation meandered.
- -
The tram bumped as it shifted tracks, and then it settled down onto the rail.
Mark sat with Sally at the back of the vehicle. They were mostly alone, so theoretically they could have talked about anything, but a small sign over the doors to the tram had the words ‘Curtain Protocol is In Effect’ in big white letters on a black background.
Sally asked, “So you want to be a metalsmith and enchanter and a team leader?”
“Yeah, I do,” Mark said, “The team-leader-thing is a bit of an open question right now, but I end up leading more often than not, though I try not to actually… make a point of it.”
Sally snorted. “Yeah. That sounds like you.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “And maybe even a mage, too, but I have reason to suspect that might be too difficult.”
Adamantium blooded people were taught to condense adamant mana and not how to use their adamant mana at all, because, unless Mark had misunderstood Blackthorn, an adamantium blooded person couldn’t really keep around extra mana in a useable, mana-based state. Adamant always turned to metal. So if Mark wanted to be a mage, he would be a mage without any extra mana hanging around, and that seemed… not good? Mark didn’t know what that meant, exactly, but it seemed bad. Plus, he already had three Talents. Healthy Body, Adamantiumkinesis, and Union, were probably already taking up a great deal of ‘space’ in his soul.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Sally said, “Give me paperwork all day long. That’s what I’m going to do when I’m not killing shit.”
“You’re really going to do that acquired-noble-title thing, huh? Can you truly buy a title?”
“It’s harder to buy nobility than getting a title granted to you by the city lord through, like, meritorious service, but it is eminently doable. No righteous city leader gives a shit if you have a lot of money, and if they do care about that more than service then they’re not a good leader. That’s how Arana’s original home fell. It’s a lesson that is learned a lot of times. But! If you have a lot of money you can become an outsized net positive, larger than the other net positives around you. That is how you ‘buy’ a noble title; you don’t actually buy it at all.” Sally shrugged. “At least that’s what I heard, and saw in action.”
Mark thought.
He did not want to go down that route, but he probably had to, at least a little.
Mark asked, “Do you think I need to do that, too?”
“Yes. If you’re not in charge of your own future, then other people are in charge of your future and you might not like what they decide for you.”
Mark felt floored. He said, “I absolutely agree.”
Sally smirked.
- -
The sun was an hour from setting, and Mark and Sally got sight of the house.
Mark gestured at a big box sitting in the driveway. “And that must be your weaponry!”
“Must be!” Sally said, walking up first and then checking the package over. She grabbed at a slip of paper in a plastic pocket and started reading.
Mark left her to it and walked up the driveway, toward the house, saying, “I’m gonna decrease my threshold for an emergency call in the hopes of getting a call for a hunt. You want to join up? There's always some emergency somewhere.”
Sally grabbed the edge of the box and ripped it open as though she was opening a lid, and not ripping long nails up as she pried the wood open. The sound was incredible, screeching like the world’s oldest door hinge, but just for a moment, and then the lid clattered to the driveway. Sally said to Mark, “Fuck yeah I want to go for a hunt!”
And then she pulled a ‘kaiju blade’ out of the box, smiling wide.
It was 3 meters long, with another meter of handle. The blade was thick as a thigh and dark grey, while the handle was similarly colored. There was no leather or wooden grip on that thing. It was full steel, or probably some other metal. Or maybe not. Sally had the strength modifier to allow her to use a plain steel weapon and not worry about the metal breaking, as long as she kept her TT up and active. So the sword wasn’t a kaiju blade, not really. It was just shaped like one.
She held the sword in one hand like it weighed nothing at all, swishing it left and right and making the air thrum as she moved. Mark was absolutely sure that weapon weighed at least 100 kilos. She was focused on supporting herself on the ground itself, to hold onto the ground, to swing that metal around like that. Her vector was very well balanced, showing exactly how much she controlled her Tactile Telekinesis as she moved. It was quite magical, really. There was so much happening behind the scenes that most people would never be able to appreciate.
But Mark could appreciate all of the work that Sally was doing.
And then Sally pulled another sword, same as the first, out of the box. She clanged them together overhead and then rested one on her shoulder while the other she held casually, smiling. She looked at Mark, practically begging him to say something nice.
Mark said, “I’m impressed, yes.”
And he was.
“Good! You should be! Dual wielding these things is not an easy task!”
Mark took one breath, and then he ignored the house and hurried to Sally, making grabby hands as he said, “Let me hold one!”
Sally laughed and handed him one of the swords.
The whole thing almost dropped out of Mark’s hands and straight onto the ground with a massive CLANG! and then a series of fast vibrations down the whole length of metal as it bounced once, before settling on the concrete driveway with a smack. A chip of concrete flew away and Sally laughed loud as Mark called out a ‘Whoops!’ and tried to pick it up again.
- -
Three pizza boxes sat open, with only two slices remaining in the last box. It was mushroom and olive, and Sally loved it, but Sally was full. Mark wasn’t touching that flavor, though he would have eaten it in a pinch. There was no pinch, though.
Both of them were on the couch drinking beer and watching shows, with plates just sitting there, sauce swirled and drying on the ceramic. Mark liked ranch, and so did Sally, but Sally also had a lot of pepper on her plate.
Sally hummed, then sat up and looked toward the kitchen, at the slices of pizza remaining. And then she narrowed her eyes and sat back down, asking, “Have you been keeping me fed with sustenance all day long?”
Mark smiled. “I was wondering if you would notice! And yeah; off and on. You complained about never feeling full, after all.”
Sally teared up a little, her smile breaking into a frown as she muttered, “Thank you. It really… really helped. A lot.”
Sally sobbed openly and Mark hugged her, and eventually they got back to watching the show, with Sally trying to pretend that the sobbing never happened.
After the next show, Sally got up and ate the other slices of pizza.
Mark smiled at that, and then he did the dishes with a breath of cleansing Union while Sally watched. He was trying to be impressive and Sally was certainly… something.
Sally stared at the clean places, and then picked them up, and said, “I’m still washing them.”
“What! Why! I cleaned them well!”
Sally was already in the kitchen with the plates, putting them into the sink and turning on the water. “Because that’s disgusting, Mark. How do you know you actually cleaned them?”
“Because I did tests with Eliot with microscopes and with Isoko and her using purity/impurity, too. Those plates are clean.”
“Still gonna wash ‘em.”
- -
The sun began to set.
Mark and Sally took home the gym for a run, but it was not a gym that was capable of working for Sally, with her times-15 strength modifier and size. It was just meant for Isoko and Mark and occasionally Eliot, but not really. Mark got a good workout, though. Sally ran on the treadmill. Running on that oversized-but-still-apparently-small treadmill was a good workout for Sally’s Tactile Telekinesis control. But outside of that, she spotted Mark.
With sweat dripping, Mark set the bar back on the bench overhead, his muscles feeling stressed but good. He smiled as he breathed easy, luxuriating in the burn.
Sally smirked overhead, stepping away from the bench. “410 bench is pretty good for a Healthy Body.”
Mark balked. “The fuck you mean ‘pretty good’! 410 is fantastic!” Mark held up his arms, making muscles, saying, “Look at this shit! I am stacked!”
Sally, of course, did her own double bicep pose and casually put Mark to shame. “You got a long way to go!”
“Oh fuck off.”
Sally laughed.
- -
Back on the couch and watching shows, Sally said, “So today was great, but I want to kill shit. I want to see you in a real fight.”
“Tonight? Like. Now? I could do a night run.”
Sally had a moment, thinking about it, and then she shook her head. “I could do tonight… Actually, no. Let’s go tomorrow.”
“Sure. Isoko and Eliot aren’t getting in tomorrow until late, and I want to see you in action, too.”
Mark picked up his phone and flipped through a screen to find the Slayers app. He checked at the feed, the monster kills and the activity map with its hot zones and lack of hot zones, which was mostly a lack, right now. He had adjusted his and Sally’s availability to the second highest setting a few hours ago, but still there hadn’t been any work.
Mark read aloud and summarized some of the actual headlines. “ ‘Winter always leads to an expected lull in activity, which is a trend that has continued. Prepare for Spring emergencies beginning sometime around March.’ As for what’s out there right now, seems like they’re monitoring the situation everywhere and there have been no requests for High Yellow emergency assistance from non-actives—” He clarified, “We’re non-actives right now, since we’re at home.” Mark continued, “Looks like the only real action is happening in the east... toward the south east, really. The situation is stabilized and headed toward conclusion in a few hours… soo… Nothing happening today that isn’t routine kills by teams out in the field.”
Sally asked, “How do we become actives?” She added, “I assume actives will actually get called.”
“Ehhh… Well.”
The participation list for monster hunts was a convoluted thing overseen by several AIs and people at Slayer HQ, but it was mostly overseen by Memphi itself. The Slayers only worked at the allowance of the City of Memphi, and Memphi was the one that actually made the requests and all-calls for all the monster kills. Even basic hunting was a City of Memphi thing that they only allowed outsiders to participate in, because Memphi didn’t want to do the bureaucracy for every single person in the entire city. Memphi delegated the responsibility of keeping the city safe, like most cities did. The act of monster hunting was an entire culture with businesses and guilds and individuals, all working the same never-ending job, but from different directions.
‘Who got called for what’ was a massive diagram of interaction that got moved around based on personal ability and interest and connections. The city tried to organize people to always make sure that the wilds were always managed, but sometimes people were called in because they were truly needed for their specific skill sets.
Mark was actually rather damned high on the overall on-call list. All paladins were, really, even though Mark wasn’t a paladin. Mark was higher than most paladins, even, because he was actively engaged in the work of monster hunting. Memphi would call Mark in for a job before they called in Lola or David, for example, unless there was a specific need for an anti-mage Inquisitor or a Speedster Inquisitor.
Mark said, “I’m always an active, technically. This extends to everyone I’m with, in a group. But since I’m at home then I am lower on the list. If you want to actually get called out first for work then we need to go to Slayer HQ tomorrow and spend the day there. That’d be called ‘going active’.
“They have game rooms and all sorts of stuff for people to enjoy while they wait for calls, but we probably won’t have to wait for long. The transport is right there, too.” Mark added, “I tend not to go to HQ though, because… well. I would get called for everything, and the people who are there are the brawnies who want the work. It’s mostly brawnies who stay at the guildhouse... And they know me. It’s that situation like at lunch, but all the time, and they all want me to be on their team. Paladins and other types try not to wait around at HQ because they all get the same experience, though some people have it worse than others.”
Sally went, “Ahhh… Is it… a big no-no for you to be there? Or just a cultural faux pas?”
“You want to go? We’re going then.”
“… You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then we’re going! We can hang out there tomorrow.”
Mark said, “Sure.” … And then he had a question. “So what can Retaliation do, anyway?”
“It’s ‘Retribution,.” Sally said, smirking. “Drakarok freaks you out enough to not try to know the name of the Power he grants?”
Mark felt his face flush with embarrassment and the absolute need to tell Sally just how wrong she was. “It’s war and murder, Sally.”
“The War for Life and Righteous Murder. Not just any old war and murder. Important distinction!”
Mark deadpanned, “Sure, Sally.”
Sally waggled her eyebrows and asked, “Would you help me hide a body if I killed someone?”
Mark gasped and Sally chuckled, and Mark’s emotions felt like he had a speedster in his head, bouncing off too many emotions all at once.
Years ago, they had joked about helping each other hide bodies and they had both agreed that they were ride or die with each other, even if they weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend compatible. But things had changed. They were adults, now! And both of them had killed people! And yet…
This was a serious conversation, but Sally wasn’t being serious right now, and yet...
Mark answered honestly, “I would get mad at you and then ask why and a whole bunch of shit like that, but yeah. I’d help you get rid of the body—” Mark rapidly added, “But only because I’d trust you have a good reason, Sally! The fuck!”
Sally laughed, joy on her face. “Same.”
Mark felt a flush of joy himself. It had been a big fucking question, but… in the moment, and in a way that Mark felt would always be true, it was like they had never spent any time apart, at all. Like none of that bad shit had happened. He could never be mad at Sally for any real length of time, for any reason at all, and she felt the same.
It was nice.