Sam Junkit was no hero. She had no super powers, and it would be a cold day in hell when you found her risking herself for someone that she didn’t know. She had come to terms with these facts when she was still a child. She had a good set of skills that had always served her well, and she liked the life that she had carved out for herself.
Her morning began the same way as always, snuggled up nice and warm under a pile of junk. Well, technically the pile was just camouflage to hide the entrance to her bedroom, but she never thought of it that way. Her life revolved around junk, and that extended to the place that she called home.
It was a small space, all things considered. Her earnings could justify a larger space, but it wasn’t worth the hassle. Any extra space than was strictly necessary would eventually be filled with more junk, so she preferred a space that she might actually keep clean.
And her home was clean. It would surprise her customers at the Scrap Heap, but her home was spotless and quite thoroughly organized. She enjoyed the contrast, as it helped her to mentally separate herself from work at the end of the day. Work space was messy, home space was clean. As soon as she stepped through the door every day she could feel any concerns from the shop simply fade away into the background.
It was a good way to live. And she had extra advantages as well. Since she ran her own shop and lived on the same property, she could sleep in however late she pleased without ever missing anything. Anyone who had been to her shop more than once knew better than to bother her while she was resting.
Right on cue, someone started pounding on her door. Not the door to the shop, either. That she could and would ignore without concern. No, the pounding was coming on the hidden door to her actual home. That was infuriating for a number of reasons, not the least of which being that there was a quite limited number of people who actually knew where she slept. And she suspected that she knew exactly which one had come to bother her.
The pounding continued until she sleepily grabbed something close to her bed and threw it at the door. It crashed loudly and the hammering blows finally stopped once they had been acknowledged. It still took her a few minutes to get up and ready, but no further interruptions came. She considered curling back up in bed, but it wasn’t worth the hassle. He wouldn’t go away until she came out and dealt with him. She would just have to take an extra nap to make up for it.
She unlocked and opened the door to the outside and took several seconds to blink in a futile attempt to adjust to the bright sunlight. Hmm, what time was it? She shook the thought from her head and looked around. Not five feet away she found her most frustrating customer, the gadgeteer Lightforge.
Unfortunately, he was also her biggest and most regular customer, so he got to do things like barge in on her first thing in the morning. It didn’t spare him the death glare that should have melted his face where he stood, but he was frustratingly impervious to it. He even had the gall to look positively cheery.
He grinned down at her and said, “Hey Sam! Taking a little break?”
“Shut up. It’s too early for that. I need breakfast.”
“Breakfast? It’s past time for lunch.”
“Really? Huh. I guess I have some catching up to do.”
“...Right. Anyway, I need your help.”
“Shut up. Coffee and food first. You’re paying.”
She led him away from the shop and down the street to a little cafe on the corner. She ate many of her meals there, and had become friends with the owner over time. They were long past the point of asking about the strange hours that she tended to keep. Instead they would simply deliver a large breakfast platter the first time she appeared in a day, whether that be at five in the morning or ten at night.
The pair sat in a booth and Lightforge tried to start the conversation, but Sam cut him off each time. They had been sitting for only a couple of minutes when a waiter came up and set a comically large mug of coffee down in front of the parts dealer. Sam smiled and thanked him before picking it up and taking a long drink of the glorious liquid within.
Lightforge just stared at the display for several moments. Eventually he said, “Why do they even sell coffees that big?”
“They don’t. I got sick of having to order so many refills, so I bought this mug and convinced the owner to serve me out of it. It’s just for me.”
“Wow. Ok, I guess that’s something new that I know about you now. Does this mean that I can speak now?”
“If you must, then go ahead.”
“Great. I need your help, because I need power. A lot of it.”
“Way too vague. Get to the point.”
“I mean power supplies. Energy sources. The kind you’d use to run something big.”
“How big?”
“Big enough to run a house-sized fortress with power to spare.”
Sam finally paused from the bliss of her morning coffee and set the mug down on the table. She looked Lightforge up and down, noting that there was something different about him. It wasn’t physical, he was the same hulking figure that he had always been. It was a change in his eyes, like he’d passed through fire and made some difficult decisions as a result. Whatever he had in mind, it was something big. She grinned.
“Are you finally getting around to building your evil lair? I’m surprised it took you so long.”
“You’re on the right track, but I’m hoping not to end up evil when all is said and done. I have better things to do.”
“Oh, really? Why don’t you lay out your plans and I’ll see what I can do about getting you the parts.”
He nodded and started to explain the grand plan that he had in mind. Sam’s food started to grow cold as she listened with rapt attention to the sheer audacity of the things that he was planning to attempt. Even if it failed, it would certainly fail spectacularly. It was the kind of deal that Sam simply couldn’t resist.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
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When Lightforge walked away from Sam’s shop, he was feeling lighter than he had in days. He had a plan, and calling it ambitious didn’t even begin to cover it. He was going to protect the people around him, and he wouldn’t allow himself to fail the next time.
The street around his shop wasn’t completely repaired, but it was most of the way there. It was truly amazing to think that most of the work had been done by the city itself. His assistance had helped the process along, but it hadn’t been necessary. Everything in this world was capable of self repair if given enough time.
He stepped into his shop and started pulling out the components that he’d gotten from Sam. She hadn’t had everything he needed on hand at the moment, which he didn’t mind since he also didn’t have the funds to pay for it all yet. He had enough to get started, and that was all he needed.
Before he could properly get down to work, there was a gentle knock on the front door of the shop. When he looked up, no one was there, but he was sure of what he’d heard. In a world with super powers, there were plenty of options for it might have been, but he was confident that he knew the source.
“Come out, Circe.”
The villain obliged, dropping her invisibility and revealing herself just a few feet away from him. She looked cagey, like she was unsure of how to proceed. Seeing any level of uncertainty on her face was unusual, so Lightforge decided to keep prodding a little bit.
“Since when do you knock? You love surprising me by appearing out of nowhere.”
She smiled thinly and nodded in acknowledgement.
“It’s not just you. It’s my default method of arrival. But after what happened the other day, I figured that you might react poorly to another villainous surprise.”
“Good call. What do you want?”
“I’m mostly just checking in. I would like to know where we stand before making any further plans.”
“You’re a villain.”
“I’m on your side.”
“Really? I didn’t see you fighting with the rest of us. You just vanished and stayed out of it.”
“How would you even know? Like I said, invisibility is my trademark ability.”
“You always have an answer, don’t you? Always a perfectly reasonable explanation. But it’s all shallow. The fact is this: I barely know anything about you. And we both know that you’ll stab me in the back if it suits your needs.”
To her credit, Circe didn’t immediately retort. She studied him, considering what he had said. She didn’t retreat or back down, but she took the extra time to think hard about her response.
“If it came to that, I probably would. But I think you’re underestimating how much I value this relationship. Throwing it away isn’t something that I would do lightly. And you know something about me that no one else in this world can claim: you know my real name. Right, Nick?”
Lightforge had to take a step back. He’d almost forgotten about that conversation; it felt like it had taken place a lifetime ago. Before he’d truly accepted her into his life, she’d confided that piece of information to him. She’d trusted him to see the person behind the alignment. Shame trickled into him as he realized that he was taking his anger out on the wrong villain.
“You’re right, Rebecca. Maybe I was too harsh. But I don’t think I can sell to villains anymore.”
She nodded and said, “Yeah, I thought you might say that. And you’re not wrong to think that way. But you might want to give it a second thought.”
“Why? I tried being neutral, and all I got was a destroyed street outside my doors.”
“What you were doing wasn’t being neutral. You were dictating the terms of engagement for everyone in the area. You declared that everyone would follow your rules or get smacked down. And then someone decided to put you in your place.”
“Yeah, I guess I underestimated Razorhawk.”
“No, you didn’t. Razorhawk is a lackey, a pawn. The one who put that attack together was the same one who gave you that nasty affliction.”
“Bloodwing? Why? He already has me marked, why send thugs to kill me?”
“Not kill you. Humble you. Show you your place. If you want to play the neutral shopkeeper, you’ll have to do it like all the other shopkeepers. Sell to whoever comes in and ignore everything that happens outside your doors.”
“Where does Razorhawk fit into this? I checked and she’s not part of Bloodwing’s Alliance.”
“No, she’s not. Instead, her alliance is like a minor league counterpart to his. They operate in areas where Bloodwing’s direct interference would raise too many eyebrows.”
“Like an offshoot alliance?”
“Exactly. They largely do whatever they want, but when Anarchy Unleashed hands down an order, they follow it. They wouldn’t have pushed so hard against you without an order like that.”
“So you’re saying that Bloodwing doesn’t just want me marked. He wants me docile and subservient.”
“Basically. And for the time being, I suggest that you comply. At least publicly.”
“I can’t. If I try then the heroes will be the ones to come down on me next time. My grandstanding was the only thing keeping them from trying.”
“Not if you don’t show it. Go back to working in secret. No fancy inventions, basic repair, upgrade, and consumables work. And I’ll even help you with the ruse.”
“How?”
She grinned and walked over to his workbench. She stood silently for a moment, reading something that he couldn’t see. It was a look that he’d gotten used to in this world; it meant that she was going through something on her interface. After a moment she theatrically waved a hand through the air and an item appeared in it.
It looked a bit like an old camera, or at least like part of one. It was obviously just one part of something bigger, though he didn’t recognize it on sight. It was the size of his head, so he was guessing that it wasn’t meant to be portable. She dropped it on the tabletop in front of him with a grin.
“I’ve spent weeks trying to track that down, so you better appreciate it.”
Lightforge couldn’t help himself. He picked up the mystery item and inspected it.
Name: Illusory Projector Core
Type: Component
Quality: Rare
State: Damaged
The central component to an illusion projector. If properly assembled into its complete state, this device can produce large illusions of very high quality. This unit will require a skilled hand and a talented artisan before returning to such a state.
His eyes nearly leapt from his head at the sight. How in the world had Circe gotten her hands on something like this? Admittedly it was right up her alley, but even then…
“Thank you,” he whispered. They were the only words that fit.
Circe grinned and said, “Well, that look alone is almost worth the trip. I’ll leave you to your new toy, just let me know if you need any help with it.”
She started to walk away before stopping abruptly and bending down to inspect something near the ground. She poked at it curiously with her foot before picking it up and adding it to the table.
“What’s this? It looks kind of funny.”
Lightforge could barely pull his eyes away from her gift long enough to even see what she was referring to. It was just a scrap of debris left over from the recent destruction. At first glance it didn’t look any different from the countless other pieces littering the street. But a faint glint of light within it made him take a closer look.
What he’d taken as a single piece was actually three pieces squished together. It was like a sandwich with two small pieces of stone on either side of a shard of glass. That alone wasn’t strange. But there were tiny sparks of multicolored light within the glass, and the three pieces resisted his casual attempts to separate them.
Odd, and certainly a curiosity that merited some investigation, but at another time. He looked to say as much to Circe, only to find that the villainess had vanished. He smiled and shook his head; He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d planted the thing herself just to guarantee a few moments when he wouldn’t be looking.
It felt good that things were going back to normal.