Wednesday, June 06, 2018, 09:30 AM, Norfolk, Virginia, United States of America

In the morning, I set up the magic effect to animate tools to start moving about doing their tasks. Since my clothes were already clean and ready, and my breakfast stew was already warmed up in that crock-pot, I went about ensuring that the place would be ready in case someone hired by S.H.I.E.L.D. dropped by while I was at work. I had removed all of the “loot” that I had acquired from those encounters that I had had with those gang members. After a bit, Rex got up from his nest, and went into the bathroom, ostensibly to use the toilet. I’m sure that it presents an interesting picture to someone who hasn’t walked in on it before, but for me it was just something to work around.

Everything that I could do to set up the place to be fairly robber proof was done. Everything of value that was light weight was going to be packed away into either of my backpacks, my bandolier, or the cart for behind the bicycle. About the only thing that would be left in the building was the foodstuffs that would be too heavy to move. It would make me look like a vagrant, but at least if something did happen to this building, it wouldn’t destroy most of my limited resources. Besides, with the fact that Bob was looking to be supportive, maybe it wouldn’t be an issue for the day.

My reason for all of this preparation was because of the information that I had gotten from my surge of arcana-based information gathering wasn’t all that comfortable. The basics of the rumors on the street were that these gangs were extremely violent, vengeful, and still had resources to expend, and members in other areas that were reaching out to those who were allies and resources in the gang with the loss of the ones that had been captured. Both the Pepsi Boys and the Painkillers had figured that their gangs were being hit by some other gang in the area and were going to reinforce with whatever forces that they still had. I had no knowledge about whatever forces might be available after “The Blip”, and the general lack that I had for anything in the rest of the world for either gang, I decided that Rex and I should be prepared to dodge out of wherever we were known to have been, at least until I get more information. Rex was going to fly over to above my new workplace in secret, with his lightweight nest in a bag that he was carrying to find a corner to relax in for the day.

I got the bicycle and the cart out of the garage before locking everything up. I didn’t know if there was going to be anything left of the things I would leave, but just about everything I would leave was easily replaceable and cheap to boot, if the amounts of money that I was finding on the gang people was any indication. Also, getting everything that I would need to keep up the fight was the most crucial out of all of the tasks. About the only thing I would regret losing was access to all of the salt that I had acquired, and if I made it through the week without any commissions, I’d use up all of the salt for making more of my equipment have enhanced quality.

By the time that I was ready to head out, I felt that the at a worst-case scenario, I would be able to set back up elsewhere if the worst does happen. I don’t know yet how much access the people here have to scrying type things yet, especially with the abilities of technology that I do not know about yet. I got my way to work without much in the way of issues, I figure that the chaos has started to calm down now that people have started to realize that they need to continue to exist and for that they need to get it together. I bicycled my way down to the road pulling the heavily laden cart behind me, noting the cars that were slowly starting to be removed throughout the days. I got to work without stopping anywhere for a breakfast and managed to finish making it to work on time.

*****

Wednesday, June 06, 2018, 07:30 PM, Norfolk, Virginia, United States of America

When I got in to work, it was actually Bob who was waiting for me, noting the cart behind me silently. I pulled everything in, and Bob informed me that Doug had to take the day off for something, so it would just be me back in the workshop. I nodded and asked if there was a list of work that needed to be done. Bob told me that there was and then we headed back to the workshop together. I parked my bike into the storage room that I had previously been informed that I could use, while Bob watched me with curiousness.

We went to the workshop next, and it was just Bob and me in there. I asked Bob what was the next thing that he would have me work on is, and he asked me if I was comfortable demonstrating what the process was for enhancing the quality of an item. I sighed and noted that I needed a large quantity of salt to do the process. Bob looked at me and asked me about how much I needed for this process. I noted that it took a different amount based on the utilization of the item, but that if the item was intended to be utilized offensively, it would be about sixty pounds of salt to do the job.

Bob looked at me curiously and asked me if it needed to be any specific kind of salt. I shrugged and noted that I have successfully done the ritual with table salt that I had purchased from Walmart. Bob thought for a minute and said that he’d arrange for salt to get here, but that until then, I could deal with the batch of firearms that had come in, doing the cleaning services. I acknowledged the order and went to go start on the process of cleaning all of the items.

I started up the process of getting the prestidigitation cantrip up and going, before even grabbing the list. I went to the first gun and started the complete teardown, cleaning, oiling, and rebuild of each firearm on the list in order. I was working away on the list for a while, until Steve checked in on me and let me know it was time to take a break. I put the gun that I had just finished back into the locked drawer and cleaned up my work area. Steve noted that he was going to head out to get Chinese and wanted to know if I wanted anything. I shrugged, and noted that I wouldn’t mind, but that I didn’t know what they might have for a menu.

Steve told me the name of the place, after he realized that I wasn’t from this place and thus I wouldn’t know what was for sale at this particular place. I used my S.H.I.E.L.D. phone to look up the place and found that the menu was provided, along with the opportunity to pay for it through the phone’s integrated functions, or apps. I looked through the series of options for a “lunch menu” and came to the decision of trying “Roasted Pork w/ String beans”. I offered up to Steve to buy for his lunch, since he was going to get it, and he wanted “Sweet & Sour Chicken”. I ordered both and an “appetizer” of “BBQ Spare Ribs”. Steve thanked me and headed out to go pick it up.

Once Steve left, Bob came back in, to talk to me about the enhancement arcana, so that he can at least personally attest to the effects. He provided me a pistol, which he told me he was very familiar with, a colt 1911. I looked it over, and it seemed serviceable, and of sufficient quality to hold the transformation, so I told him of such, and that I could perform the spell, but that I would still need the salt. Bob offered up that he had ordered the salt from a hardware store already, and that it would be delivered to the store in an hour or so. He then went on to ask me what using this on other items would effectively do.

I went on to tell him the basics of the effects, for both armor and tools, in how it could make armor more well fitted and a little easier to maneuver around in, but not reducing any of the defensive features in doing so, and how tools would be better suited to their tasks than whatever regular quality tools would be able to be do in the operations. Bob offered up that he’d gladly have part of my day be set aside to this task, once we discussed what my requested charge would be, but that he recommended that I be secretive about doing it to the general public. I agreed that this is something that I didn’t intend on just doing all the time, especially since it takes an hour to perform the ritual every time, and that I can only do it a limited number of times per day. Bob said that he had acquired some six hundred pounds of salt for testing, since that was the minimum that they would cover the delivery for, but that once things were dialed in, he would gladly cover the salt out of his “commission” for setting up the cuts.

It was about that time that Steve was coming back. All three of us sat in the breakroom, Steve and I eating while Bob talked to the both of us about the future of the store, how he was looking to cash out of the company in a few years, and that he knew that Steve was interested. Steve admitted as much, but that he wouldn’t think of changing the name or the practices of the business. Bob smiled and noted that he had hoped that he would feel that way and added that Steve should be a good person to run the business, if his decisions with me where any guide. I thanked them both for their consideration and said that I was just happy to find a way to get myself together after all of the chaos of the last week.

We ate our lunch and afterwards, Steve told me that he had to go to an appointment for the rest of the day, so it would just be me and Bob. Steve added that he would be closing up the store portion of the shop, as we didn’t have enough people to cover it and the back. Bob told him that we would keep down the fort for the day, and that he can feel safe about it. Steve thanked me for lunch, and Bob for the rest of the day off, and then headed out. We walked out to the front of the store, where I finally saw some of the products that the business sells. I was amazed at the difference in some of these weapons and the advancements that had been done based on what I knew was capable, even beyond what I had worked on in the back.

Bob locked up the front, put a note about being closed for lack of staff, pulled down the gratings that covered the windows. We went to the back room that had an area set aside, and he informed me where in the storeroom the salt was no stored. I pulled out one bag of the salt, and took it to the area, before taking another bag from the storeroom to work area. I carefully measured out another ten pounds from the second one and started setting designs on the ground in the form of runes and patterns, the ones required for the spell’s effect. Bob came in after I was done, it had been almost thirty minutes of the preparation before I carefully entered the center of the circle of salt and started to meditate and quietly chant, beseeching the weapon to aid the wielder to be more accurate and strike true.

Bob silently watched for the half an hour of my chants and salt baptism of his firearm. After a total of one hour of time, from the start of the formation of the patterns, all of the salt on the floor and covering the weapon glowed brightly and then disappeared into the firearm. I took up the 1911 and checked for any excess salt on or in it. I handed it gently to Bob who looked it over. It had been well serviced and clean before he had handed it to me, and it was returned in that same general condition, except that it was looking like it was a lot higher quality materials and craftsmanship.

Bob weighed the pistol, holding it like it was a treasured friend, and then asked me to follow him to the range. I followed him and he went to a specific lane in the range, seemingly out of habit, and got the magazine out that was in the pistol and loaded it with some ammunition. He then went on to put the pistol in some kind of mechanism and get set up to repeatedly pull the trigger. As he cycled through the ammunition in the magazine, he was careful to not pull the firearm in any way while he was firing the firearm. When the magazine was empty and the bolt was secure, Bob asked me to go with him to take a look at the target.

When we both went to see, he held the target up to another target, which seemed to be very close to the first, if only for a slightly larger hole in the center, which I realized was a tiny bit ragged as it wasn’t one larger hole, but several smaller holes, making it slightly bigger in diameter. The hole that had been made by the Colt after the enhancement was actually about five percent smaller in diameter than the original. Bob looked at me with a grin and noted that I had, in fact, given the firearm about a five percent increase in accuracy. I smiled and noted that it was at least the easiest way to reliably measure the accuracy change. Bob replied that he was convinced, and asked if I would be willing to perform this on a set of body armor and some other piece of equipment. I offered up that it would take the same amount of time for the magic to take hold into the items, but that I would be glad to do so for each of those items.

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Bob went back to his office while I went back to the workshop, to get thirty of the forty remaining pounds of salt in the bag ready. Only ten pounds were remaining, but that would be sufficient for a tool of some sort. I started doing the generic patterns for flexibility improvements. Bob came back with an undercover vest, which I took, cleaned via prestidigitation, and then started up on the procedure. I started up the chants for increasing flexibility to the material, to decrease the difficulties in doing athletic activities and sneaking.

Then, with a bit of a flash, it was done. The salt all disappeared and seemed to dissolve into the vest where it was on it. I lifted up the vest and handed it to Bob, without much flourish, but noting that it was definitely feeling higher quality. Bob smiled and then asked for some assistance in putting the vest on. I aided him in this endeavor and Bob immediately did some moves and stretches.

Bob exclaimed that it did feel like it was a lot more suited to him and his body. I nodded and noted that it was something that I had used on my own individual armor pieces to make me more maneuverable and flexible for the athletic and stealthy tasks that I needed to do as an investigator. Bob added that he could definitely see this being something that a LOT of people would want to have performed, especially those of the Special Forces operators in the armed forces. I reminded Bob that I was only able to do this with three items a day right now, and never likely more than five or six in a single day. Bob thought on that and acknowledged, asking if there was a time limit on when the enhancement would end.

I offered up that there was no time limit for this effect, that it would exist as long as the item exists in its current form. Bob thought about it and said that this was still something that he could gladly see that many top people would want, as every little bit helps in the life and death circumstances. I acknowledged this and offered up that as long as they are good people, I’d gladly help out in this. Then Bob’s face took on a serious look. He asked what I could do with what I had called “tools”. I thought about it, and offered up that any changes that occur would be to increase in the functionality of the tool for the appropriate task, like making manacles harder to get out of, or a first aid bag have higher quality equipment, or make a scope that allows you to spot something, but not target, better.

Bob went back to his office and brought out a good-sized metal case, with a red cross on the side, that I recognized as a simple first aid kit, not of sufficient quality to be a healer’s kit. I took the metal case and gave it a look over inside, seeing a bunch of basic bandages and such. I put the case on the floor and put the remaining salt around it in the appropriate runes and patterns, and then began the chanting of beseeching the medical kit to be enhanced and provide better healing. Bob watched as the remaining time elapsed, until after a total of an hour, the salt again glowed, disappeared, and was absorbed into the first aid kit, which had some subtle changes on the case. It didn’t have a brand name on it any longer, even though it looked to be of sufficient quality to have whatever company made it like to advertise the fact.

As Bob opened it up, the basic bandages and minimal medications turned in to a very well arranged and designed setup that could probably work for an EMT. Bob looked at a lot of the writings for the items and materials, and noted that it looked remarkably military in design, but it wasn’t any military nomenclature to which he was accustomed. Bob looked at each package, which was set up to be useful for someone reading quickly how to get to an individual item or injury case. Bob puzzled through everything for a few minutes, speaking aloud while he looked at the quality of each item. After he had gotten through the inventory, Bob asked me what I would charge for this kind of service.

I puzzled it out, doing the math quick, and offered up that back home, the cost would have been somewhere north of eighteen ounces of gold for the spellcasting, but having an item of that quality would be six pounds of gold added to the weapon, or three pounds of gold added to the cost of armor, or a pound of gold added to a tool or item. Bob whistled, noting that this amount would be a bit out of reach for most people and even special operators. I nodded and noted that it wasn’t something that was normally purchased by everyday people. I offered up that the price of that new medical kit would have been a pound of gold flat, so the pricing was a bit out of line with what was available here. Bob thought for a minute and asked me what the opportunity costs might be for me to use the spells.

I thought for a minute and told him that each casting a day would prevent me from gathering information on others that wasn’t readily available, or jumping away from an emergency attack, or being able to spy on someone through one of my pictures, possibly other things later. Bob was pondering the situation out loud, but quietly, stating that it was hard to balancing endangering one’s life for getting a benefit to someone else’s capabilities. Bob noted that this was something that couldn’t be replicated in almost any way, except by remanufacturing an item or completely replacing it at a substantially higher cost. Bob said that he would float it by a few contractors and special forces operatives, to see what they would consider appropriate. Bob offered up that he personally would probably not put much more than a grand, then doing the math for me, or about a one ounce of gold, for the firearm modification, and even then, only because of the sentimentality of the weapon.

I shrugged and offered up that I understood that the prices of different metals were vastly different here than in my old world, and but that back there, the equivalent would have been one-hundred and eighty ounces, sixty pounds, thirty pounds, and ten pounds of silver, respectively. Bob rubbed his chin as he thought, and offered up that silver might be a bit more reasonable, but only at one tenth rate of what I had brought up. Doing the math, roughly fifteen hundred bucks for a firearm, seven-hundred and fifty bucks for armor, and two-hundred and fifty for non-weapon and non-armor enhancements. I added quietly that I can do the same thing for vehicles of sufficient quality, improving their speed and resiliency, for a variable amount of gold per quantity of possible passengers, and improving their handling, for a lot less. Bob looked at me like I was crazy and asked how much salt that would take.

I did some math and offered up that for his truck, it would likely be around one thousand pounds of salt for the speed and resiliency, and like one hundred and twenty pounds of salt for the handling improvements. Bob blinked and was silent for a minute, before asking if there was anything that prevented the spell from working. I noted that the spell didn’t work if the item was either too low in quality, or already too high in quality. Bob thought about this for a fair amount of time while I ensured that I had everything cleaned up. Bob stopped me from doing more janitorial stuff, and offered up that we were done for the day. I put away everything while Bob was still thinking, and then asked if I needed to go anywhere else for the rest of the day.

I told him that I needed to go to a place called the Velvet Witch to get stuff for what I needed for helping S.H.I.E.L.D. out this weekend. Bob told me to get in his S.U.V., and he would drive me there. We got in his vehicle and headed there. Bob waited outside while I headed in. I know what I was expecting when I thought of the name of the store, “Velvet Witch”. The store was NOTHING like what I was thinking. There wasn’t anything that was close to pact-based witchcraft here. It would have been better known as an apothecary or herbalist, but thankfully, that was exactly what I needed.

When I went in, I was greeted by a woman in flowing skirts, with silver jewelry and tattoos. There was the smell of incense in the air and shelves of items and herbs. Thankfully, the woman was trying to be helpful, and the store had exactly what I needed. I listed off exactly what I needed, and the woman was curiously interested in the final list. She got me the quantities and such of what I needed to get for the various things I was going to make for the S.H.I.E.L.D.

After we got everything packaged and set aside for what I needed, the price came to almost two thousand dollars. I also found that they had sufficient items that I could increase my alchemy kits into a second crafting kit. It wouldn’t be a full alchemy crafting kit, but enough that I could have two operations going at the same time. This put the price up to an even twenty-five hundred bucks, with “tax” included. I swiped my phone in front of the card reader and the cashier was extremely surprised that it instantly cleared. She helped carry all of the purchases back to the S.U.V., which consisted of a LOT of glassware and fragile items.

The cashier smiled as she walked back to the store with a bounce in her step. Bob asked me just how much I had spent for this, and I told him. He balked, and asked why I had spent so much, and I told him that it was to ensure that I had EVERYTHING extra that I would need to complete the task for trying to heal the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent that I was going to be taken to this weekend. Bob nodded and noted that I had dropped a large amount of money on just a chance. I shrugged and noted that the Agency was housing me at least, so I should try at least.

Bob took me back to the safehouse, and I unloaded everything into the house. When I was done, I looked around, and saw no activity at all, so I politely asked Bob to get me back to the shop so I could get my bike and everything and get it back here. Bob took me back to the shop and helped me move back everything I had moved in the morning when I was being paranoid. I thanked him again and he offered up that he would find a good reimbursement rate for weapon, armor, and medical kit. I shrugged and offered up that it was just a thank you for the job and understanding everything.

When I was home, I got the text from Jonathan that I would be leaving Friday night, and that someone would be by tonight to get the safehouse set up and a delivery was going to be set for the equipment for Rex. I had the package that I had gotten from the delivery today, and my items that I had gotten from the Velvet Witch, and I set up my tool kits to set up alchemical items. I started animating them to make the Tisane and the Aqua Clarissima in separate tool set while I waited for the person to arrive. The process was going along well, and I figured that I would be done with both of these in eight hours. Rex was busy napping in the living room on his nest.

After a few hours, there was a knock, and I went to go to the door. The person on the other side of the door was the person in charge of putting up the cameras and such. I let them in and sent them to work, while Rex went into the lab to watch over everything. The person was working away on stuff while I went back to work in the spare room for the alchemical items. For a few hours more, the person was working, and Rex and I were in the lab.

When the service person was done, they let me know and I signed off on some phone-like tablet before they left. At the end of it, I could access it via my S.H.I.E.L.D. phone, and look at all of the cameras and alert settings. Rex liked his new equipment, finding himself able to contact me via my phone fairly easily. I texted Jonathan, thanking him for getting me this equipment as rapidly as he did. Jonathan responded back that he was glad to set it up, but that it was probably for the best as there wouldn’t be any other S.H.I.E.L.D. assets in the area, since half of them were gone and he had had to put this requisition up to the new Triskelion in DC, and thankfully, there were not any current requests open.

I thanked Jonathan again and asked if there was anything other than the attempt this weekend for me to help S.H.I.E.L.D. at this time. Jonathan said that there wasn’t but that he was going to send me a document once he got around to it for me to read through. I told him that I would, once I could do so, after he got it to me. Jonathan reiterated that it wasn’t a big deal and can wait at least until after the weekend. Speaking of which, Jonathan added, that Friday will be a trip on a Quinjet, and that it would be a two plus hour flight.

I responded that I was good with it, and that I was fairly certain that I would get the Alchemical Items completed by then. Jonathan thanked me again and sent back to me that we’d talk more about whatever I might need tomorrow and Friday during the day to make sure that everything was ready. I finished up what I could with the Alchemical preparations, leaving the animated tools to finish up everything. I prepared all of my equipment for tomorrow, while creating a couple of portraits of me and Rex to put up in hidden areas around the house, to give me better views that were not covered by the cameras. In addition, I summoned up the current rumors in the area t find that nothing had changed from what I had heard yesterday. Sighing, I decided to go to bed.