There was a downside to choosing to become a discount Wolverine, both in the clearly stated and in the less than obvious, as I thrashed and howled in bed. There was a cost, as my body burned, as it twisted and altered, as bones broke and muscles tore. There was a price from going from something mundane, something barely above average in several respects, and gaining a body meant for a single purpose. War.
In many ways, it was a crude and simplistic way of looking at it, of framing it as I laughed and screamed and moved, as my mind blanked and things went dark for a moment, my eyes shifting and adjusting to better see in the dark. My mind rippled, as I crawled out of the covers, falling onto the ground as my nerves were rewired, as my mind shifted and changed. The thing is, I signed up knowing that something like this was going to happen, as my stomach heaved, as I cried and tried to move.
The thing is, I had underestimated just how bad it was. But then again, that was the thing. The Genetic Deviant template was backed by Science to some degree. The capitalization was important, because the result of the class was one of super science, of formulas and understanding, replicating the methods and creating new super soldiers, more living weapons. And so, to a painful degree, it worked inside the bounds of what was physically possible, hand in hand with conventional biology taken to the extreme and surpassed.
As it was, the pain was part of the process, as my body was being broken down and replaced to be more efficient, stronger and more capable in all ways. It was not just bones that were being replaced with metal. Yes, it said coated, but that was just fancy verbiage for converted into a strange sort of living alloy. Nerves burned, fat and flesh melted as I smelled myself cooking, turned into an alchemical furnace. But would you like to know the truly worst part of all of this?
I could not fall unconscious. I could not find relief that way, as my old and smugly girl yarped at me, her eyes wider than usual, as a part of me wanted to just hug my pug. To cuddle her and be with a living creature that loved me. But the thing was, as my flesh shifted and screamed, as my body was made anew to fight on battlefields were the living envied the dead, I was getting... hungry. For a moment, she ceased being my loveable thugable pug and looked just like a pork rump (which I jokingly called her from time to time).
I would not be a danger to her. I couldn't be, as I dragged myself to the door, to head into the main room of the home. The cabinets were the food was several painful steps, as the burning spread down my legs, as my ribs flexed and shuddered, knees cracking and melting, howling as I fell, tearing open the cabinet door, taking handfuls of canned ham, chicken and turkey, desperate to open the cans as my fingers trembled and clenched. Desperate, I nearly swallowed the meat whole, scarfing it down, as the burning spread.
----------------------------------------
I could tell you exactly how long I was under after the fact for the simple fact that there had been a duration of the change listed in the mythos description. Twenty four hours. One whole day from start to finish of becoming something other than human. Of having me... well, thats the thing. I was not entirely sure. You see, the fun thing is that there were few external changes to me. All of the changes were, for the moment, internal. Unless of course, the entire thing was just a bad case of food poisoning and hallucinations.
There was a reason I avoided alcohol and cannabis. Frankly, I made enough bad choices with my mind free of drugs. Of course, there were some questions, some ways I could try and perhaps prove to myself that this was not just a dream. Not just the fever dreams of a fat loser that would never amount to anything. But, he could be different now. He could be more than he used to be. He would be more... even as he thought it would be useful to see a status window.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Which, given the floating screen that was appearing before his eyes? Either he was still dreaming... or? He willed his claws to emerge. And so they did. Gleaming blades of bone and metal, able to be retracted back beneath his skin, even as he marveled at them, as he focused inwards, feeling the pulsing flickers of potential not yet realized, of the pool of power sitting in his core.
He had options... but the first thing he was going to do? It was time to have a brief vacation, as he needed to stage a Great Canadian Cattle Raid.
Which of course, is just when his small and smugly girl whined and barked. "Fuck!" Because his old pug was stuck on the bed for the last twenty four hours! Okay, new plan. First, take care of pug and have breakfast. Planning on getting ready for the collapse of modern civilization after that. Taking a sniff... he was going to need to clean up the shit, piss and vomit as well. Well, as they said, before enlightenment chop wood and pour water, after enlightenment pour water and chop wood!
----------------------------------------
So, as it stood, there actually were Greyhound buses and trains that traveled from Thunder Bay to Calgary, which had the most important thing for me at this time. Farms where I could descend on the cattle herds, making off, butchering and harvesting several for sweet, sweet graft points. Sure, the EXP would be quickly taper off, as cows were only CR 1 critters, but there was something even more important about them. They were basically walking stores of graft points.
Sure, I could jump people, kill and harvest them... but your average person would only have one HD and is medium size, so would be worth one to four graft points for half an hour of work. On the other hand? Cattle have three HD and are large sized creatures, so are worth six to twenty-four graft points each for the same half hour of work. Frankly, even before you consider the fact that humans have guns? Cattle are clearly the superior choice! Of course, there was another important question to be asked...
"How would loot work?" Because this just screamed something like an Litrpg, so that was.... well, would it be something that was automatic or something more along the lines of something more realistic? Of course, that is when the system pinged. Oddly, from what it seemed, it would be realistic until full integration and then mixed afterwards in the form of 'lucky finds'. Honest and interesting really, and made sense as much as anything else. Of course, I needed to get to work, by which I meant finishing buying the train ticket after checking to see if they would allow for a dog cage.
After all, I could not just spring Pudge on my relatives, and I was only going to be spending three days on this little trip. Well, three and a half most likely. I needed some time to locate the cattle and engage in savage and brutal predation after all! And then harvesting them for their flesh. Pug in lap, I stroked her spine. As soon as I could buy some more manifestations for Limb-Shredding Graft-Taker?
Soon, my adorable little battle smug, I shall pour in my efforts and ill gotten gains on making sure you are the best little pug ever seen. By giving you biological immortality, restoring your youth... and giving you laser eye beams. For some reason people forgot to give their pets laser eyebeams. It was simply disgraceful!