Seal 4.2

2010, November 20: Brockton Bay, NH, USA

I entered the house a little bit after my sister dropped me off. I'd timed my arrival to be about fifteen minutes past four. Hopefully, that'd be enough to give others time to arrive; I didn't fancy being alone with the birthday boy.

As much as I considered him a good person, I didn't really click well with Dean, even more than other kids my age. I considered him a little too much of a white knight. That wasn't a bad thing on its own, but the man was a little too naive, a little too regimented in his morals. We didn't argue much about Creed's role in the city over lunch anymore, but it wasn't as though he'd completely changed his mind or anything.

I had enough trouble trying to make Amy's morals a bit more malleable, thank you very much. I had no interest in getting involved with yet another person who saw the world in blacks and whites.

My dilly-dallying at home paid off. I was among the last to arrive. I was surprised at the number of people there were. Granted, I'd never been the type for parties, typically keeping my own birthday celebrations to family, but the house was filled with a lot more than our own lunch crowd. That made some sense in hindsight. I saw members of the student council, of which Dean was president, as well as several upper year boys from school.

I walked up to a table laden with presents and placed my own among them. It was being watched by a pretty, middle-aged woman with sandy-blonde hair and green eyes. She looked a little bored but was friendly enough. "Hello, dear," she said with a happy smile. "Friend of Dean's?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, cutting down on the snark. This was his birthday party. Wasn't everyone? "I'm Bryce."

"Oh, he's mentioned you to my husband. He says you're a very smart young man."

"Thanks, I think he's pretty cool too…"

"Go on then, you don't have to keep an old lady company," she said, shooing me off.

I nodded and walked over to join my regular lunch group in the living room. Carlos, Stephanie, Chelsea, and Dennis occupied the sofa, the girls chatting among themselves as the two Wards played some co-op platform shooter on a massive TV screen Amy took an entire loveseat to herself and had a plateful of nachos balanced on her lap. She did the bro-nod when she saw me.

"Yo, Bryce."

"Yo, Amy. Steph. Chels. Dennis. Carlos," I greeted. "Where's Vicky and the birthday boy?"

"Probably sucking face on his balcony," Amy said with a disgusted scowl.

"Lovely. So what's everyone up to?"

"Ehh, you're welcome to join us and hang. There're also a few guys playing water polo in the pool in the backyard if you wanna join them," Carlos said.

"It's November."

"Pool's heated."

I glanced down at my arms. "Do I look like I can play water polo?"

"Heh, you're not that bad, Bryce. You want the controller?"

"Maybe later. I'm gonna grab some snacks first."

Dean's parents had enough food catered to feed a small army. Rather than designate a set dinner time, there was a sign that read, "Cake at 7." Everything else was shoved next to one wall of the dining room in a buffet style. I smiled; if nothing else, they knew their audience. Most of the food was Superbowl fare: wings, a nacho bar, little meatballs on toothpicks, salad, and the like. Dinner, still being heated in a buffet tray, was some kind of pot roast in horseradish cream.

I loaded my plate with wings, good wings were surprisingly hard to find in the Bay, and sat in front of the sofa so I could use the coffee table.

"So, Bryce," Chelsea called.

"Yo."

"How was your Saturday?"

I paused, a buffalo wing halfway in my mouth. Thoughts of Marcoh's best and worst works flew through my mind. I could make an actual buffalo with wings… It wouldn't even be that hard… "Umm… I just finished up a writing assignment," I told her. "Kinda boring, honestly. How was yours?"

"It would have been fine if someone didn't ditch me to suck face with her boyfriend."

"Hey, I told you about our date four days ago," Stephanie complained, shoving her friend with a shoulder.

"Yeah, I know. I'm messing. I just helped mom take care of some errands at home. We're getting all of our extended family coming over for Thanksgiving so mom had us go shopping today."

"Nice, mine are usually small, just me and the fam. What about you guys?"

"No one's coming from out of town or anything, but most of my uncles and aunts live here so that's not saying much. My uncle makes pernil, this slow-cooked pork shoulder thing. It's sooo good," he said as he set his controller to the side. He'd lost to Dennis, again. He leaned forward to snag one of my wings.

"Oi, get your own!"

"Come on, Bryce. Food's all the way over there."

"Lazy bum," I grumbled.

"How 'bout you, Bryce? What do you do over Thanksgiving?"

"It'll just be me, mom, and Sierra this year since dad's… passed. He used to be one of those guys who tries a new turkey cooking method every year, you know? Vats of boiling oil in the backyard and everything," I said with a bittersweet smile. Those were good times. Mom would demand a copy of whatever bullshit recipe dad pulled from the internet a week in advance. Then, if it didn't pass her muster, she'd make reservations with a restaurant the day after "just in case" so we could have a turkey dinner even if dad's experiment blew up in his face. The reservation typically ended up being a wise idea. "He almost burned down the house a few times. It's why we have a firepit in the back actually; mom insisted he dig one in case of oil spills."

"Huh, smart lady. Sorry for bringing up memories," Carlos said awkwardly.

"It's fine. I can't not think about dad over the holidays. Too many memories, you know?"

"Yeah…"

"This year, we're probably just going to skip the experimentation and eat at a restaurant. How 'bout you, Ames? What goes on at the Dallon house?" I passed the buck before it got too awkward.

"We just meet up at Aunt Sarah's," she said with a lazy shrug. "Uncle Mike might show."

"Who?" Dennis asked.

"Lightstar."

"Ohh, nice."

"He's kinda meh. Recently got married. He's as much of a hardass as mom."

I tuned them out in favor of seeing what I remembered about the man. Unfortunately, it wasn't much; canon had very little to say about the guy. Mike was in his mid-thirties, worked with the cops, and had a power that let him make slow-moving, concussive light balls. He was a bit like Flashbang in that regard, which said everything about how much time Wildbow spent on creating his character. A duplicate of an already minor character… yeesh…

He had an estranged relationship with his older sisters. Honestly, I was surprised he'd show for the holidays at all, not that I was interested in asking.

The six of us chatted on our own for a bit until Vicky and Dean came down the stairs. If Dean's normally immaculate button-down shirt was a little ruffled, no one commented on it, though I did catch Amy shooting him a disgusted glare. We shot the breeze for a few hours, taking turns playing video games and when that got boring, switching on a movie.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting out of a high schooler's birthday party, but I probably shouldn't have been surprised. Dean bounced between our group and the group out in the back, playing the gracious host and making sure everyone was happy. He was good at that, and not just because of his power. Seeing emotions could only get you so far after all; there was an art to holding conversation without things getting awkward and he'd clearly worked to learn it.

Eventually, after all of us had our fill of the buffet, his mom gathered us for cake and presents. Dean sat at the head of the table as she brought out a large, chocolate cake.

"Right, thank you all for coming to my son's birthday party. Do you think we should sing the song first or open presents?" she said with a cheery clap.

"We really don't need an emcee, mom," Dean said, a blush crawling up his face. He tried to hide it, but his mother's mothering was getting to him a little. His usual placid smile was a little strained. Based on how often he let Dennis drag him to the arcade, he seemed the sort to want what we'd been doing, a casual kickback sort of deal rather than a semi-official event.

It was honestly kind of refreshing, seeing the unflappable president embarrassed. Judging by the looks on everyone else's faces, I wasn't the only one to think so.

We sang the customary song, ate cake, and cleared out the table so Dean could open our presents one by one. His father wasn't around, business trip in New York or something, but had gotten him a full, fourteen-piece golf set. It was a joint present from his mother too apparently.

We guests went after that in no particular order. Vicky got him a pair of winter gloves with her initials embroidered onto the edges. Carlos and Stephanie got him a year-long subscription to an online movie service. Amy got him a hat that matched Vicky's gloves, though she didn't look particularly enthused about it. Chelsea got him a set of air fresheners for his car.

Dean shook Dennis' gift. "Seems solid."

Dennis did his best to look offended. "What? You thought I'd get you another gag gift?"

"You got me a box of ramen last year, so yes." He tore open the box to reveal… another box, perfectly sized to fit inside like a Russian nesting doll so it wouldn't shake. "Of course. How many layers are there?"

"Hey, give me some credit. You have any idea how long it took to find perfectly sized boxes?"

"You're impossible, Dennis." Six more layers and a lot of paper waste later, Dean held out a ring box. He opened it to reveal… "It's a mood ring. You got me a mood ring."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Carlos, who'd brought a glass of coke to his lips, started to choke on the drink. Mrs. Stansfield looked at the ring, then at Dennis with a disapproving frown. I wondered when she found out about the Wards, or if it was just these three. Was there some sort of Wards-PTA? Or was that just the Youth Guard?

Stephanie clapped her boyfriend on the back. "You alright, babe?"

"Y-Yeah, sorry, coke went down the wrong pipe."

"You sure? Want some water?"

"I'm good. Dennis, what the hell, man?"

The resident clown laughed. He dug around in his pocket to produce a gift card to Pixel Palace, his favorite arcade. "I'm kidding. Of course I have a normal gift. I mean, I was going to go for the real stuff, gold and all, but Vicky would twist me into a pretzel."

"Damn straight," Vicky said with a laugh. "Still could've done without the gag gift."

"Hey, comedy's an art, lady."

"Whatever. Who's left?"

"I think just Bryce from our lunch table."

I slid mine over and put up the innocent doe-eyes. "Yeah, man. Happy birthday, Dean. Vicky told me you were a huge fan of the Wards so I went to one of their signing events. Hope you like it."

Dean's smile turned brittle. He knew what was in the box. He looked into my eyes and saw the shit-eating grin on my face. What did he see in my aura? Happiness? Laughter? A bit of teasing? I'd seated myself to go after Dennis for that reason.

He looked around, searching for any excuse to avoid the in-joke but could find none. I could see the moment he resigned himself to being the butt of Victoria's little prank. With a resigned smile, he reached for my box.

"Oh, wow, that's actually really well-made," Chelsea gasped.

"I know, right?" I said proudly. It really was. Its outer shell was gleaming metal, aluminum so it wouldn't block a damn thing, but still. It could easily be part of a winning costume at a comicon. "Took me a bit to find the perfect one, but Vicky said Gallant's your favorite so I had to get this for you. See? He even signed it."

"Thank you, Bryce. I love it," he said woodenly. Next to him, Vicky, Dennis, and Carlos were doing their best not to bust out laughing at his expression. Even Amy cracked a smile.

I zoned out a bit after that. A combination of good food, friends, and people I didn't give a damn about left me clapping politely while my thoughts wandered. It was about eight when Sierra came by to pick me up. Carlos offered me a ride but he was already dropping off Stephanie and Chelsea so I didn't want to impose.

X

2010, November 22: Brockton Bay, NH, USA

It was grueling, tedious, and macabre, but I finally finished copying down Marcoh's notes. I then pulled an all-nighter to validate his information with modern medical knowledge. I'd wanted to head out into the sea each weekend but decided to reschedule in favor of mastering medical alchemy as quickly as possible. I planned to spend a few days working with rats until I could practically apply everything I'd learned from Marcoh's notes before moving on to Mei Chang's alkahestry. Hopefully, that would give me some basic skill in medicine by the end of the week.

I'd like to think I could skip straight to manipulating Mr. Azimi's heart, but that was unfortunately far too risky for me to consider. Though the creation of alchemical circles, written language, and scientific knowledge could all be copied from prior minds, the truth was that alchemy was as much an art as it was a science. It was not unlike learning the tricks from Air Gear or mastering Pokemon moves. Harnessing the energies inherent to the practice would take me a while, tinker of fiction or not.

According to Marcoh, Amestris' brand of alchemy used the circles to channel the massive energy generated by the shifting of the earth's crust. It differed from alkahestry in that Xing's variant used ley lines, "rivers of power," that flowed in the earth. They sounded the same to me at first glance but there was a big enough distinction that when Father blocked the capital's access to tectonic energy for a time, Scar and Mei Chang were able to continue using alchemy while Ed, Roy, and the others were not.

All of that left me scrambling to learn to manipulate two different forms of energy. More, it raised some interesting questions about whether or not I could substitute a different source of energy to transmute. If I kidnapped Sundancer, could I make her my personal alchemical battery?

Regardless, alchemical mastery wouldn't be something I'd accomplish in a few days.

I allowed my mind to drift idly, thinking of stupid questions as I doodled in Mr. Kalil's algebra II class. I drew various cyclic polygons, equilateral shapes inscribed so all its vertices touched the circle. Or, I tried; drawing a perfect circle was honestly kind of difficult, as was drawing a perfectly inscribed polygon. I didn't mind who saw; it was distant enough from tinkering that no sane person would ever think what I had was a blueprint for fucking the laws of chemistry up the ass. I'd probably use the fabricator to engrave circles for me, the less I had to deal with my own subpar art the better, but I was bored.

When the lunch bell rang, I slung dad's guitar over my shoulder and wandered off looking for Eric to serenade. He wasn't like his cousin in that he didn't "hold court" at a specific lunch table like a little queen bee. Though he did have a core group of friends he often hung out with, it wasn't uncommon to see him wandering amongst different social groups. It was probably why he was so popular, that and the whole "real life superhero" thing.

He wasn't too hard to find. Semi-nomadic or not, the guy had bright blue hair. He was sitting with a solid mix of drama club and basketball team members, with Grace leaning into his side. She caught sight of me as I began to pull my guitar from its case and nodded.

I pulled out a plastic pick and began to strum. E-minor. C. G. D. Three downstrums per chord; the song wasn't hard to learn even slightly out of practice as I was. All eyes fell on me as I began to play the intro to the song. Grace got off her boyfriend and fell to one knee as she held out a hand to him.

Eric's eyes widened in panic as he glanced at me, then Grace. Dots connected and he looked like he was considering floating off somewhere to avoid the incoming embarrassment.

Grace couldn't have that. She took hold of his hand with her own and grabbed a celery stick to use as a mic. With a shit-eating grin that Jack Slash would've been proud of, she began to sing:

What would I do without your smart mouth?

Drawing me in, and you kicking me out

You've got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down

What's going on in that beautiful mind?

I'm on your magical mystery ride

And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright

As the first verse came to a close, this part of the cafeteria fell silent to watch the crazy lizard-girl. I saw more than one camera and I knew Eric wouldn't be living this down for months. Shameless as ever, that only seemed to encourage her.

My head's under water

But I'm breathing fine

You're crazy and I'm out of my mind

As the lead into the chorus began to play, some of the drama club kids began to hum or mumble-sing along.

"Oh, god, I can't believe you're doing this," Eric groaned. He looked an even mix of resigned and pleased; the guy enjoyed attention in his own way, had to with his life the way it was.

'Cause all of me

Loves all of you

Love your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me

I'll give my all to you

You're my end and my beginning

Even when I lose, I'm winning

'Cause I give you all of me

And you give me all of you, oh-oh

I circled back into the chords of the verse only for Grace to shoot me an awkward smile. "How many times do I…Mhmmm… something something…"

"You forgot the lyrics, huh?" Eric said with an exasperated smile.

"Ehehe… shut up…"

"You know you didn't need to do this, right? This about Sadie's?"

"Damn it, Eric, you're supposed to wait until I ask you before bringing it up."

"Then you shouldn't have had such a long lead up to it."

"Yeah, but this is more fun." She turned to me. "Thanks for playing, Bryce. You're pretty good at the guitar."

"Yeah, no problem. Embarrassing Eric's always nice."

"Oi!" the hero protested.

"You two have fun. I'm gonna go get lunch now."

"You can stick around, you know. Hang around others of your kind once in a while."

"Others of my kind, huh?"

"Heh, yeah, you know, freshies."

I returned the guitar into the case and considered it. It really didn't matter who I ate with. Chelsea dragged me off to her table at the beginning of the year, then I just sorta made it into a habit because I didn't care. I shrugged. "Sure, why not. I still need to go buy lunch. Watch my guitar?"

"Sure. Can I play with it?"

"Go ahead, but be careful. It was my dad's."

I returned a few minutes later with a slice of cheese pizza and a little plastic cup full of peas, the state lunch veggie option. Eric had passed my guitar to one of the drama kids who was strumming it to the tune of Avril Lavigne's "Complicated." The song was meant for the electric guitar so it sounded a tad off on the acoustic. He looked like he knew what he was doing so I left him to it and dug into my lunch.

"So Bryce, how long have you been playing guitar?" one of the boys asked. I didn't recognize him in the slightest, which probably said more about me than him to be honest. He was tall, freckled, and wore a basketball jersey so I could only assume he was on the team in some capacity.

"Off and on since I could walk. Dad played a lot so it started as something to do while hanging out with him, you know? He used to play in an amateur band when he was younger apparently."

"Damn, he must be pretty great then."

"Was. He died this summer."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, not your fault. Which is why I'm asking you guys to be careful with the guitar. It was my dad's," I said a bit louder so the one trying to tug the guitar out of someone else's hand could hear. He smiled apologetically and withdrew.

"Alright, no more depressing talk. Bryce, spill," another student demanded. This one was a short, waifish redhead with inquisitive gray eyes.

"Spill what?" I asked.

"Jenna, shut up," Grace grumbled.

"What? I'm just asking," Jenna defended.

"She thinks she's the freshman gossip queen."

"Ah," I nodded. "I still have no idea what she's talking about."

"She wants to know who's going to the dance with who. And where the afterparty is for seniors."

"And I'd know that because…"

Jenna rolled her eyes. "Come on, Bryce. You sit with Glory Girl. Of course you know."

"You'd be surprised."

"They have to have mentioned something."

"I'm sure they have," I said, taking a big bite of my pizza, "but you're not taking into account how few fucks I give about that. Vicky's going with Dean and Stephanie with Carlos since they're dating. Beyond that, I honestly have zero clue."

I was even being honest. Considering the other boys at the table were Wards and one of the girls was Panacea, they probably considered themselves too busy for things like an afterparty. Amy would rather be in the hospital or at home reading trashy young adult novels. Dean, Carlos, and Dennis were either spending time with their respective girlfriends, patrolling, training, or doing some shitty PSA about saying no to drugs or something. Really, the only one who was likely to care about anything outside our little circle was Chelsea.

"Ugh, you're no help," she grumbled in disgust.

"I'm proud of my social cripple-ness, thank you very much. It takes a lot of work to give zero fucks," I nodded sagely. Truly, the best way to deal with high school at my age was to ignore everything and hope for the best.

X

I wanted to head back to my lab immediately so I could get to work but I had responsibilities both in and out of costume. To start, I met up with my third tutoring student, an Irish boy by the name of James O'Melveny.

I found him at the principal's office of Lafayette Middle School like all the others. He had black hair left to grow into a mullet, pale skin, and enough freckles that I could almost imagine he had a tan from a distance. He also had enough pimples that I confused them with freckles at a casual glance.

"Hey, James, right? I'm Bryce, your new tutor."

He shrugged and offered me a fist-bump. "Sup, man, nice to meet you. We doing this at my house or the library?"

"I've reserved one of the study booths here. Walk with me."

"Right, so… I just kinda need help with math."

"Alright, anything specific? I read your file. You don't strike me as the kind of guy who needs a tutor."

"Ah, umm… You know I'm a GaTE student then?"

"Yup." GaTE, or Gifted and Talented Education, was a national effort to identify and encourage gifted students starting from fourth grade. Kids could take honors classes in middle school to be put into AP tracks in high school right from freshman year. I knew because I was part of the program both lives. In reality, like with most national programs, it had its ups and downs. Lafayette and Arcadia definitely handled it better than schools in my past life. "You're in advanced pre-algebra, right?"

"Yeah, and I've just not been doing too hot. I don't know what it is either. I did well, math was easy, and then… it wasn't. I just wanna do well in the finals so I can stay in the program, you know? Mom's never gonna stop chewing me out if I fail out."

I nodded. That sounded about right. It sucked, being labeled "gifted" and then finding out that you didn't actually know how to study all that well because you cruised by on your natural intellect. It happened to pretty much every honors student at some point, usually in college but sometimes sooner.

It sounded like James actually wanted to learn something, which already made him miles better than Hannah. I could teach study habits. I couldn't teach a desire to learn.

"It sounds like you've never had to study too hard before," I told him honestly. "You're smart, got placed with all the smart kids, and then realized the pace gets a lot faster when the teacher doesn't have to slow down for the dumbest kid in class anymore."

"Yeah, I guess."

"So here's what we're going to do. We're going to review all the notes and formulas for the semester final coming up. Then I'm going to teach you how to take notes so this doesn't happen next semester. Cool?"

"Cool."

Author's Note

"All of Me" was honestly the very first love song I thought of and didn't feel like spending too much time on it. I don't know why either; I can't name a single other song John Legend sings, but this one came to mind.

Animal fact? Sure. Female ferrets will die if they don't mate while in heat. This is because they remain in heat permanently until they mate, causing a persistently high level of estrogen in their bodies. High levels of estrogen will suppress their bone marrow functions, one of which is the creation of red blood cells. Obviously, any animal that doesn't replenish its blood cells isn't going to live long.

This condition in which the body doesn't produce new blood cells is called aplastic anemia. So yes, there are animals that will literally die without dick.

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.