Wake 1.13

2010, September 24: Brockton Bay, NH, USA

The first football game of the year was today. I'd spent the week as I'd promised SAINT, working on optimization rather than any new builds. SAINT learned Zap Cannon on Monday and Lock-On on Tuesday before spending the rest of the week to pick up Psychic. For whatever reason, telekinesis seemed to be a struggle for my little friend.

Still, I'd gotten all the TMs I considered critically important. As nice as a few supporting moves like Double Team and Substitute would have been, I was sure I'd find other ways of avoiding trouble in future specializations.

On my end, I spent much of the week looking for inconspicuous ways to practice my new powers. I even started carrying around iron bearings so I could use Magnet Rise in school. It didn't help much with my sluggish control and lackluster power output, but keeping the bearings magnetized throughout the school day helped improve my stamina a great deal.

We also played a whole lot of Thunder Wave tag. I couldn't sneak out every night, I still needed to sleep, but I did my best to find time for us to train and play together. SAINT now won most of the time and I marveled at just how fast pokémon could grow if given the right environment. Sure, as a porygon, he'd more or less skipped the infant and toddler stages of life, but he was still less than a month old. The pace at which he learned new tricks and adapted to my own tactics was simply remarkable.

I also grew from the experience. I could readily spam Protect, Thunder Wave, and Agility and use Magnet Rise to forcibly take control of the metal in my suit to change direction on a dime. When I first started, using any of my abilities felt like running a dead sprint. I'd be lucky to be able to keep it up for a minute. Now, it was a bit like holding my breath for a few seconds at a time. The strain would mount, but I could keep up with a pokémon like SAINT, if only in short bursts.

I wouldn't say I could fight someone like Oni Lee or Hookwolf and win, but with the disguise capabilities of the Expansion Suit, I felt confident in my ability to disengage if nothing else.

Lastly, Faultline's commission was complete. Four expanded bags sat in a corner of my closet, ready for delivery.

All of this progress left me pretty tired throughout the day, but that wasn't anything new. It wasn't as though I was collapsing in class or came to school with a black eye, so my friends didn't ask too many questions.

And that was an odd feeling in its own right, having friends again.

Carlos was a swell dude, honest and helpful in a way that made me feel as though I had a big brother again. We didn't have much in common besides the obvious cape thing neither of us could talk about, but he'd accepted that the lonely little freshman was now in his circle and went out of his way to make me feel welcome.

Dennis wasn't nearly as funny as he thought he was, but he did manage to get a few chuckles out of me once in a while. Being the class clown was a talent in itself and Dennis was a natural. So good in fact that I sometimes forgot that he had a father who was slowly wasting away in the hospital. Not for the first time, I resolved to bring it up with Amy, as soon as I could figure out how to explain why I'd even know that in the first place.

Dean was a bit of an anomaly among us guys. He spent most of his free time with Victoria, though none of us held it against him. He was earnest and helpful, much like Carlos, but I felt that it was a bit artificial when it came from him.

Perhaps artificial wasn't quite the right word. That implied a lack of sincerity and if I was sure of one thing, it was his sincerity.

I knew Dean was an empath, constantly aware of the emotions of others in the form of colored auras. Whether someone was angry, happy, or just plain horny, he saw it all. I knew that it was a part of the reason he went out of his way to be helpful: He literally couldn't ignore the misery of others. Maybe it was because I knew that, but I sometimes wondered what kind of man Dean would be if he didn't have the social equivalent of an aimbot as a power.

Of course, there was no use worrying about it, Dean was Dean and power didn't define a man as much as how he chose to use it. That he chose to be helpful rather than mess with people for his own amusement or personal gain said much about his character. Sometimes, I felt that he held his own wants back in favor of pleasing others, though thankfully not to the extent of Amy's self-destructive spiral.

I shuffled out of Arcadia, following the herd of students headed for the parking lot.

"Yo, Bryce!" I heard Carlos shout behind me. Turning, I saw Dennis and Dean follow after the larger boy.

I raised my chin briefly in the universal bro-nod. "Hey, what's up?"

"Are you coming to the homecoming game?"

"Must I?"

Dennis grinned as he wrapped an arm around me. "Yep. It's tradition."

"I don't even like football."

"Doesn't matter, you're coming with us." The ginger Ward started to drag me towards a sleek, black Acura. "We're going to hang out before the game."

"We were thinking, since Dennis and Carlos won't be at the dance, we could make an evening of it today." That was Dean, always thoughtful. He headed for the driver's seat and Carlos took the front.

"Fine, where're we going?" I asked, shooting mom a quick text.

"The arcade, where else do you pregame?" Dennis asked incredulously.

"The bar, usually with wings and booze."

"You have a fake?"

"Nope, the struggles of being a law-abiding citizen," I sighed dramatically. "Arcade it is."

An insidious, evil part of me wondered how Faultline would react if I dragged three Wards to the Palanquin to get shitfaced. The ensuing chaos would be positively delicious. Alas, it was a dream never meant to be.

"Not a big gamer?" Carlos asked.

"Ehh, not really, some of the games from Aleph are fun, but I'm not big on them."

"Neither am I, to tell you the truth," Dean said, "but it's nice to go out once in a while and not care about anything except the high score."

"Fair point."

"You guys are so boring," the resident jester complained. "How are we friends?"

"I've known you since elementary school," our driver laughed. "And I think you have enough fun for the rest of us."

The arcade, aptly named Pixel Palace, was located on the ground floor of the Hillside Mall. It took up a large section of the donut and was popular primarily with elementary and middle schoolers, though I could see a smattering of kids closer to our age.

"Hey, Joe!" Dennis called to a balding man behind the counter.

"Of course he knows the owner's name," I grumbled.

"Heh, yeah, that's Dennis."

We exchanged some quarters and made the rounds. Carlos wasn't the only senior at the arcade, but there weren't many. Any awkwardness we had quickly vanished under our favorite clown's enthusiasm. After a few random games, Dennis spoke up. "Wanna bet on who can set the most high scores?"

"That's a bit unfair, isn't it?" Dean said. "You're the one who knows these games inside out."

"I'll take you up on that," Carlos grinned. He made a beeline for the nearest punching machine.

Dean and I looked at each other and simultaneously shrugged. By the time we joined Carlos, he'd already sunk a buck-fifty for three tries at the bag. He took two steps back, winding up for a massive haymaker that made his muscles bulge under his tight shirt. I glanced at his feet and could have sworn that he wasn't even touching the ground. It wasn't obvious unless you were looking, but Carlos definitely used his power for a bit of extra leverage.

The loaded punch landed with a loud whump, knocking the bag back and up into the machine. Neon lights flashed as some peppy music blared in the background. The number settled on two hundred twenty-six pounds.

"Holy shit, Carlos," I whistled, not bothering to hide how impressed I was. Dean probably felt my emotions, but it wasn't his strength that impressed me; it was his acting. Aegis was a brute who could push cars around. I had no doubt that he could have snapped the bag right off the hinges if he wanted. That he appeared to give it his all and still ended up with a relatively mundane result said a lot about the amount of work he put in to controlling his strength. "I'm pretty sure you could try for amateur boxing with that kind of hook."

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"Heh, thanks, I do box, just not in competitions. I'm more about keeping in shape than winning belts, you know?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I get that. Dennis, you gonna give it a go?"

The time-stopping Ward made a show of waving his hands in the air. "No way, man. That's a win for our favorite meathead for sure. Why don't you go, Bryce?"

"Because I don't want to embarrass myself."

"Go for it, man, I still have two more tries," Carlos nudged me forward.

Seeing Dean give me an encouraging nod, I knew I'd get no help from his corner so I sighed and walked up to the bag. The bag swung down and I tried to mimic Carlos' stance. Judging by Dennis' grin, I failed. I went for a haymaker of my own, but ended up hitting the side of the bag rather than the center.

"There, ninety-eight," I said, "decent for a scrawny white boy, right?"

Carlos poked my arm. "You've been doing the workouts Dennis sent you, huh?"

"Yeah, it's working. I wouldn't say I'm fit, but I'm at least not dying after a mile run. Now, Dean's turn."

"I don't think this is necessary," he tried. We ignored his protests and shoved him forward anyway.

"Go for it, prez," Carlos laughed.

"So is this what you do as a cadet?" I asked, interested in his time as a Ward. If he didn't know I knew he was talking about his Wards life, he might be more open with his feelings. "Boxing, weights, and stuff?"

"Not just that. Being a cadet is about more than self-defense. Dennis and I also learn about emergency protocols like what to do in the event of armed criminals or natural disasters. We're both also first aid and CPR certified."

"That's pretty neat," I said honestly. "Sounds like the kind of thing that'd be useful, especially in this city."

Dean walked back with a respectable one-fifty. "It can be, but it's also a huge time sink. It's why I didn't join."

"What's your after school thing then? Mr. Maury's starting to push us into picking out an extracurricular." It was the downside of attending a vocation-heavy school like Arcadia: Almost every teacher encouraged one after school program or another.

"He's your homeroom teacher, right?" I nodded. "He means well, but you don't have to have a work-study or even a sport. I recommend just doing what comes naturally to you. As for me, I'm helping out at my father's company," he said. I was surprised at the undercurrent of frustration in his voice.

"Stansfield… real estate?" Dean's dad probably provided covers for his Ward activities somehow.

"Yeah, that's us, a family legacy since before the Constitution." It sounded like he was reading off a script.

"Sounds rough. You tell me to do what comes naturally, but it doesn't sound like you got that chance yourself."

"It's not all bad," he told me as we walked to some kind of racing game Dennis and Carlos were competing in. "I know dad means well, but I'm not sure if I want to be a part of the family business, you know?"

"No, sorry," I said truthfully. "I don't have some prestigious legacy over my head but I can see how that'd get uncomfortable real fast. Join me for a game?" I waved at some generic zombie shooter that reminded me of the Time Crisis series I played back when I was a kid the first time around.

Dean smiled though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You know what? Yeah. I could do with shooting zombies for a bit."

Turned out, Dean was pretty good with shooters. I wondered if it came as a side effect of having a blaster power. The four of us moved from game to game. To my private embarrassment, I got sick of losing everything and eventually cheated at the crane game using Magnet Rise to keep the claws shut, just so I could say I won something.

The stuffed bunny mocked me, a testament to my shame.

My phone buzzed halfway through and I excused myself. I walked outside the arcade to avoid the noise and answered the call.

"Creed," Faultline said, "can you talk?"

I made sure no one was listening before lowering my voice. "Yes, I take it you've reviewed the files I left you?"

"Your bug box is impressive. I can't find a single electronic lock it can't unlock. I want one more, for myself and Newter. You mentioned it was possible to obtain a stealth suit. Can one be made into a shawl for Labyrinth to hide under?"

I considered it for a moment. "Yes, it's doable. She'd need to be completely underneath the shawl though."

"I would be willing to furnish your lab in exchange for two bug boxes and the shawl. Within reason of course."

"Of course. I'll drop by tonight to drop off the four expanded bags and an extra bug box. You're going to have to get me the materials for the shawl though. I'll send you a list."

"That would be agreeable. See you tonight." The line went dead.

I walked back inside and shuffled through the crowds until I found my friends huddled over a table sharing a plate of nachos. "Shouldn't we get going if we want to make it to the game?" I asked, stealing a chip laden with ground beef, pico de gallo, and artificial cheese so yellow it practically glowed.

"Ehh, it's fine. It's a football game, not a job interview. Being a few minutes late won't hurt anyone," Dennis shrugged with an easy grin.

"Says you, I don't want to keep Vicky waiting," Dean said.

Carlos took the leftover chips and shoved them in his mouth. He chased them with a glug of Sprite. "Alright, there, no more food. Let's go."

We were piled into the car when Dennis nudged me with waggling eyebrows. "Who was that anyway, Amy?"

I shoved him back. "Are you kidding? Why would Amy call me? It was a friend from out of town."

"You two get along well," Dean said. "Don't sell yourself short. You and Amy keep saying you're going as friends, but I've never seen Amy be okay with any of the other guys Vicky tried to set her up with."

'That's because I'm not interested in fucking her,' I thought. "Seriously, drop it. I don't want to date Amy and she treats me like a friend instead of a nuisance because of it. I don't want her to get the wrong idea so stop joking about us dating."

"Fine, take all the fun out of it," Dennis pouted but didn't push further.

X

The screams and cheers of overexcited teenagers let us know we were near. Judging by the scoreboard that loomed above the field, Arcadia had scored the first touchdown and PAT, giving us a seven-zero lead. Through repeated back and forth via text, we followed Dean to his girlfriend.

"Dean!" I heard Victoria call. She floated a foot above the ground to wave. By now, people knew to get out of her way when she was excited so she had no trouble sweeping the taller boy up into a kiss.

Beside her, a thoroughly disgruntled Amy pretended to gag. There were two more kids near the Dallons, their cousin Eric and a petite Asian girl with straight, black hair and large, almond eyes that looked almost out of place on someone so short.

"Hey, Bryce, fancy seeing you here," Eric said with a cheerful smile. "I didn't think you were the type for this sort of thing."

"What? Pep, teen spirit, and idiots giving each other concussions?" I flashed an exaggerated smile that wouldn't look amiss on the Joker. "That all sounds delightful."

"Dennis drag you out?" Amy gave me a knowing look and we shared a moment of sympathetic misery.

I winced as a cheer went out. Someone had scored a field goal, apparently. "Yup. Vicky?"

"Yup."

"You two are perfect for each other."

"Shut up, Eric," we said in sync. The blue-haired boy laughed at the unintentional validation.

"Oh, hey, I almost forgot." He nudged the tiny girl next to him forward. "She's my date tomorrow."

"Hi, Grace Kanda," she said, holding out a hand.

I shook it. "You look familiar."

"Are you saying all Asians look alike?" She accused indignantly. She barely stood four-eleven but glared with an intensity that could have impressed Hookwolf.

"I didn't mean it like that," I stammered.

She held the glare for a moment before it cracked into a wide smile. "Hahaha, that's always fun. Relax, Bryce, I'm just messing with you. I look familiar because I'm in algebra II with you. I also had seventh grade history with you too."

"Ah, that explains it. So, Eric, what've you been up to today?"

"I took Grace out for some crepes and walked around the Boardwalk. What'd you guys do?"

"We killed time at the arcade and ate some nachos."

The line crashed together, Arcadia's blue and gold on offense against Immaculata's red and white. Our team looked like they would break through, but someone on Immaculata's side screamed something and they rallied, probably their captain. "You know, I'm pretty sure Carlos could trample most of these guys," I hummed.

"Probably," the Puerto Rican shrugged, "football's not my thing though. I'm sure there's more to it than just being big."

"Where'd Dennis go anyway?"

"Here," came the redhead's voice. He was dragging another boy, somehow looking even more awkward than I felt. "I saw a friend and decided to bring him over. This is Chris."

Chris, who I was pretty sure was Kid Win, was almost painfully generic: pale with brown hair and that awkward shuffle teenagers do when uncomfortable. "Hi," he said shyly.

I nodded to my fellow tinker. The more I looked at him, the surer I was.

Friend groups could mingle in high school, real life wasn't like Mean Girls and jocks like Dennis and Carlos could befriend the shy kid like Chris; I was an example of this myself. It wasn't just the stereotype that "tinkers are nerdy" that gave him away. I could still see smudges of ink on his fingers, blurred in ways that didn't happen unless you were drawing something detailed. His familiarity with Dean and the Newest Wave was also a good clue.

"Hey, how's it going?" I tried being friendly. I pointed at his smudged right hand. "You like to draw?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I was drawing something before I came here."

"Cool, acrylic or plain ink?"

"Just ink. Do you draw?"

"More of a music guy myself, and even then more as a way to relax."

The two of us started a conversation about arts and hobbies, half of which I'm pretty sure we both pulled out of our asses. Let's face it: We were tinkers; our hobbies were tinkering and thinking about tinkering. Still, I found it funny that Chris disguised his tinkering in public as an interest in art and sci-fi while I disguised mine with an interest in music editing.

Had to admit, he probably had a better cover. He'd show me pictures of cartoon robots and talk about how he drew "inspiration" for "fanart" and I'd make up some bullshit about synthetic music quality losing out to "old school rock."

By the end of the night, Arcadia lost twenty-eight to forty-two, not that most of us were paying attention to the game. Vicky and Dean had mysteriously vanished, no doubt to find a quiet place to suck face. Amy looked surprisingly involved in a conversation about role-playing games Grace and Eric were having. Dennis and Carlos were the only ones who seemed bummed about our school's loss.

"Say, where's Chelsea? And Stephanie, now that I think about it," I asked. "This seems like their kind of scene."

Carlos laughed and pointed down towards the field, where the cheerleaders were packing up. "They're over there. I'm not surprised you missed them."

"Ah, yeah, vaguely remember them saying they had cheer practice at some point."

The rally and game broke up in short order. Vicky and Amy flew off somewhere, possibly home, possibly the hospital so Amy could get in some last minute healing. We smiled as Grace dragged her boyfriend off for ice cream. They made a cute couple, though it was pretty clear who wore the pants in that relationship.

'Huh,' I thought as I leaned against the wall, waiting for a ride from Dean. 'Eric just might be the most well-adjusted cape I've ever met… And… shit… I'm going to try to keep him alive, aren't I?'

Author's Note

Did you know? When I first started writing, I wanted this fic to be more fast-paced than Legendary Tinker. Funny, huh? I just can't seem to write anything but slow fics.

Maybe third time's the charm?

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.