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Disco Rice - [Worm OC Insert/Chaos Gacha]

My breakfast arrived, a glorious platter of glistening food. Buoyed by the coffee, my hope surged. I picked up my fork, my hand steady, and took a bite of the scrambled eggs.

Ashes.
He just needs to invent a new craze:
  • Coffee'd eggs
  • Coffee'd bacon
  • Coffee'd pancakes
  • Coffee'd ...
Everything is better with coffee!
 
Nice story, so will he get the tickets for taking down Bakuda next chapter.
The mc really needs to interact with the characters next and find some friends because right now he's just stuck monologuing in his own head and driving himself insane.
 
Thanks for the chapter, a small constructive criticism is that the character feels a bit like an animal in a burning building that has decided that the outside is for some reason worse. The story hasn't gone on for long so far but without his memories questions like what does he want become somewhat hard to answer as he seems like he will mostly be reactionary.
 
did he not get any tickets?

Nice story, so will he get the tickets for taking down Bakuda next chapter.
Tickets a coming, I just didn't want to interrupt the flow. I'm firmly in the camp that the writing prompt is just a tool for the story.

That said, I am trying to be internally consistent. So I've established a two tier reward system: immediate rewards, for lower level achievements, like the first time he got a safe house. These trigger, as the name says, immediately. The second tier is conclusionary rewards, which are major story beats. These don't trigger immediately, but after a certain amount of narrative tension has resolved. Basically, you won't see an infight power up from a reward unless John chooses to bank some tickets in his rainy day fund.
The mc really needs to interact with the characters next and find some friends because right now he's just stuck monologuing in his own head and driving himself insane.
Thanks for the chapter, a small constructive criticism is that the character feels a bit like an animal in a burning building that has decided that the outside is for some reason worse. The story hasn't gone on for long so far but without his memories questions like what does he want become somewhat hard to answer as he seems like he will mostly be reactionary.
You two have nailed it. This is by design. The first arc is all about John reacting to the immediate crisis of finding himself in Worm, and finding out that he's already into the plot. Right now he's in triage mode, and trying to deal with the bombing campaign. The next arc is about establishing himself as an actual player in the game and interacting with others. But I like writing from inside his head, so the story will likely still be very cerebral, even when he's engaging with people.

Right now I've got three arcs outlined. The Arc 1 is what I've been calling "The Survivor" in my notes. This one is pretty heavily outlined and close to done. Arc 2 I'm calling "The Operative" and this one is significantly less outlined. I have some broad strokes, but a lot of it will depend on what he rolls at the conclusion of The Survivor arc. Arc three has a name, and the vaguest of possible ideas. The gacha can completely throw any plans I make out of the window, so I'm not committing to anything with that one, yet.
 
Chapter 7: The Underground New
Chapter 7: The Underground


I left the diner and walked, a fresh cup of coffee warming one hand while the other swung freely at my side. The heat did little to touch the cold rage simmering in my gut. The city felt different now. The morning air, which had felt like a promise an hour ago, was now thick with the threat of a coming war. Every passing car, every distant siren, felt like a new tremor in the foundations of the city, a city whose supposed guardians had proven themselves fundamentally incompetent.

The walk back to the apartment was a long one. Boundless Stamina meant my legs didn't care, but my mind did. The sheer inefficiency of it all grated on me. Trudging from one side of this blighted city to another was a waste of time, time I apparently couldn't afford to waste. I needed a bike. Or a car. Something. Another problem for another day.

I got back to the sad little apartment, the smell of boiled cabbage and despair a familiar, unwelcome greeting. I stood there in the middle of the room, the anger from the diner curdling into a sense of bleak impotence. I had done my part. I had made the right call, taken the most dangerous and unpredictable piece off the board. And the result? The city was still on the brink. Lung was still free. It felt like no matter what move you made in this world, the best you could hope for was a slightly less shitty outcome. If the story I was stuck in had a god, he was a grim bastard.

The feeling came then, a familiar, clean, sharp message that planted itself in my awareness. A double-tap of notifications, one right after the other.

[Achievement Unlocked: Gift-Wrapped]
You beat a villain half to death and then called the cops on her. The pinnacle of heroic achievement! Here's a gold star for tattling.
Reward: 1x Silver Ticket

The sheer, dripping sarcasm of it was so profound it almost broke through my anger. Before I could even fully process it, the second one hit.

[Achievement Unlocked: Burning the Map]
That convenient little story you had in your head? The one that told you what happens next? Yeah, that's on fire now. Congratulations, you played yourself.
Reward: 1x Bronze Ticket, 1x Silver Ticket, 1x Gold Ticket

I stood there in the silence, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. The universe wasn't just a son of a bitch; it was a comedian with a taste for irony so dark it was practically a black hole. And a mind reader, apparently. It knew the story in my head was my only real advantage, and it was rewarding me for destroying it.

The bitter laugh died in my throat, replaced by a surge of pragmatic focus. The universe could laugh all it wanted. It had also given me new tools. Time to see what the machine had sent me to deal with this new, unpredictable mess.

I sat on the edge of the groaning mattress and mentally tore the first Silver Ticket, the one from Gift-Wrapped.


Skippy
|Common Item|
Cyberpunk 2077
- Aiming is overrated anyway, Skippy is a Smart Handgun, capable of shooting homing bullets and having a smart AI on board to regulate the gun, being able to choose where to aim on the fly and distinguish ally and enemy. It can also judge you for your actions. You get 5 magazines every 24 hours.


A gun appeared in my hand. It was a pistol, its polymer frame cool and solid against my palm. As I turned it over, a tiny holographic projector on the side whirred to life. An inch above the gun, a ridiculously cheerful, cartoon bullet blinked into existence, its eyes wide. A synthesized voice, chipper and impossibly upbeat, echoed in my mind.

"GREETINGS, USER! I AM SKIPPY! IT IS A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU!"

I stared at the cheerful hologram for a long moment, the chipper voice echoing in the quiet of my own head. A talking gun, was my first thought. Of course.

"Okay," I said, my voice a dry rasp in the quiet room. "So what do you do?"

"AN EXCELLENT AND EFFICIENT QUESTION!" the voice chirped. "I SYNCHRONIZE WITH YOUR CYBERWARE AND OPTICS TO PROVIDE A TACTICAL OVERLAY OF THE BATTLEFIELD, IDENTIFYING HOSTILES AND GUARANTEEING PERFECT ACCURACY WITH SELF-GUIDED MUNITIONS!"

"I don't have cyberware," I stated flatly.

There was a half-second pause. "BUMMER! WELL, NO PROBLEM! MY INTERNAL SENSORS ARE MORE THAN ADEQUATE FOR BASIC TARGET ACQUISITION. I HAVE TWO PRIMARY COMBAT MODES. WOULD YOU PREFER 'STONE COLD KILLER' OR 'PUPPY-LOVING PACIFIST'?"

The names were so absurd I almost laughed. "And those mean what, exactly?"

"BUT OF COURSE!" Skippy's holographic bullet did a little spin. "'STONE COLD KILLER' MODE TARGETS THE HEAD AND CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM FOR MAXIMUM LETHALITY! GUARANTEEING TO END ANY CONFLICT WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE!"

"And the other one?"

"'PUPPY-LOVING PACIFIST' MODE TARGETS LOWER EXTREMITIES AND NON-ESSENTIAL APPENDAGES! DESIGNED FOR INCAPACITATION WITHOUT TERMINATION! GUARANTEED TO NEUTRALIZE HOSTILES WHILE MAINTAINING MORAL SUPERIORITY! IT IS, HOWEVER, EXTREMELY BORING."

I forced myself to think. The story in my head, the burnt ruin of a map, was still good for one thing: the rules of the game. And the biggest unwritten rule of the cape world was that you didn't kill other capes. Killing was a line you didn't uncross. It put you on a fast track to a short, brutal life, hunted by heroes and villains alike.

"Stone Cold Killer" was the amateur's choice. The tool for a psycho. "Puppy-Loving Pacifist," for all its soul-crushingly stupid branding, was the professional's setting. It was the one that let you win a fight and still operate in this city tomorrow. It was the smart play.

"Select Puppy-Loving Pacifist," I said.

"REALLY?" The cartoon bullet's cheerful expression drooped. "ARE YOU SURE? BEEP BOOP. PROCESSING... LAME CHOICE ACKNOWLEDGED. 'PUPPY-LOVING PACIFIST' MODE ENGAGED."

A dry chuckle escaped me. I dismissed it to my Inventory, cutting off its disappointed sigh mid-sigh.

Next, the Bronze Ticket from Burning the Map. I tore it.


Butcher's Bag of Infinite Meat
|Common Item|
A bag containing a limitless amount of fresh meat inside of itself, you can only take 100kg of meat out of it every 24 hours, it contains meat from all mundane animals from earth in all cuts, all of it clean, not ethically sourced. Just plunge your hand into the bag of meat think of what you want and ignore the implication of infinite meat and its source.


A simple burlap sack, empty and limp, appeared in my other hand. My grim smile from Skippy's antics faded. A magic gun, followed by... a grocery bag? The Gacha was a comedian, and the punchlines were getting old. I was about to dismiss it as trash when a colder, more reptilian part of my brain uncoiled. Infinite meat. The tasteless ash of the diner breakfast was a fresh, bitter memory. A quiet, unsettling question slithered into the silence. What, exactly, qualifies as a "mundane animal"? A chill that had nothing to do with the room's temperature traced a path down my spine. I shoved the bag into the void of my Inventory. The answer could wait.

My hand was trembling slightly as I focused on the second Silver Ticket. I ripped it.


Deed to Land
|Uncommon Item|
A deed to a land, just rip this deed in half and you will have always owned land in a location that is favourable to you.


A piece of thick, expensive-looking parchment appeared in my hands, rolled and tied with a red ribbon. My grim smile from Skippy's antics faded as the deed appeared. The constant, quiet hum of paranoia in the back of my skull actually quieted for a moment. This was security. Real, tangible security.

Without a moment's hesitation, I tore the deed in half. The pieces dissolved into dust. A new set of information, a kind of artificial memory, settled into my mind. It was a concrete fact of the present: I knew where I lived. There was a key in my pocket that wasn't for the apartment.

I grabbed my jacket and left the cabbage-scented slum for the last time without a backward glance. The new address was on the frayed edge of Downtown, a place where the glass and steel towers began to give way to the urban decay of the Docks. It was a neighborhood of pawn shops and bail bondsmen, a grey, transitional zone of old brownstones and brick-faced storefronts. In a healthier city, one that wasn't constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, this place would have been gentrified years ago.

The building itself was a three-story brownstone, its facade grimier than its neighbors, a few cracks spiderwebbing across the stone. It looked forgotten, neglected. The new key slid into the lock with a satisfying click. The inside was a time capsule of dust and neglect. Faded wallpaper, floors covered in a uniform grey blanket of filth. But the bones were good. Solid.

I reached the basement, a dark, brick-lined space that smelled of damp earth and century-old coal dust. My Ghoul senses, sharper and more attuned than a normal human's, felt it immediately. A draft. A faint, cold current of air coming from a solid brick wall. The sound of the city, the distant rumble of traffic, was just a little too clear from that one direction. The air tasted different, too. Stale, but with a different vintage of decay.

I ran my hand along the bricks. Solid. I pushed. Nothing. I activated my Carapace, the grey armor flowing over my skin, and pushed again, this time with the full, monstrous strength of my new body.

There was a low groan, the screech of rusted metal, and a section of the brick wall swung inward, revealing a gaping black square of darkness beyond. A hidden door, perfectly counterweighted, sealed for decades.

The air that wafted out was ancient, a smell of dust, damp stone, and something else. The faint, ghostly scent of old whiskey. I stepped through, the beam from my Omni-Phone cutting a sharp white line through the absolute darkness. I was in a tunnel, its brickwork old and surprisingly solid. A wooden crate, rotted through, sat against one wall, the faded stencil of a pre-Prohibition distillery still visible on its side. This was the real value of the property. This was why it was favorable.

The knot of paranoia in my gut finally, blessedly, uncoiled.

I returned to the main basement room, the hidden door sealed behind me. I sat on the dusty floor, leaning against a cold brick wall, and allowed myself a moment to feel it. The security. The stability.

Then, I pulled out the final prize. The Gold Ticket. Time to see what the jackpot was. I focused, and tore it.


Potato GLaDOS
|Uncommon Familiar|
Portal
- Glados is a highly advanced AI that contains an immense amount of data from Aperture Labs and is capable of interfacing with any system and mainframe she is put into. She is capable of building technology too but... she is stuck in a potato. So you will have to find a way to supply her with the technology first.


My hand was suddenly heavier. I looked down to find a potato staring back at me. I use the term 'potato' loosely. It was a scorched, lumpy thing, dangling from a metal spike, with a single glowing yellow lens embedded in one end. The sheer absurdity of it was staggering, but the unwavering glare from that single yellow lens was, without a doubt, the most profoundly unimpressed look I had ever received in my life.

The yellow lens flickered to life. A dry, heavily synthesized, and deeply unimpressed female voice crackled from the device, the lens pulsing with each word.

"Oh... great. It's you. The one who's been making all the... noise. Let me guess. You're the big hero who's going to save the world, right? Because I've seen your file, and frankly... I'm not impressed. Also... and I really can't stress this enough... I am a potato."
 
PRT Threat Assessment ENE-837: [REDACTED] New
PRT Threat Assessment ENE-837: [REDACTED]

FILE STATUS: ACTIVE, PRIORITY 2
LAST UPDATED: 04/21/2011

SUMMARY:
[REDACTED] is a confirmed, unaffiliated parahuman who first appeared during the Bakuda takedown event. The subject displays a versatile "grab-bag" power set with a primary Brute/Mover classification, augmented by significant Changer and potential Striker abilities. A provisional Thinker rating has been assigned due to demonstrated access to classified intelligence. Subject is an untrained but highly effective combatant, exhibiting a steep learning curve and a willingness to use extreme, if non-lethal, force. Motives are unknown, but current activity is exclusively targeted against the Azn Bad Boys (ABB). Subject is to be considered highly dangerous and unpredictable.


POWER CLASSIFICATIONS (PROVISIONAL):
  • BRUTE 4: High-level physical resilience and confirmed regenerative capabilities.
  • MOVER 3: Enhanced burst speed and high-speed vertical traversal.
  • CHANGER 3: Manifests a full-body biological carapace and four prehensile appendages.
  • STRIKER (sub-rating) 4: Appendages are capable of extreme force. Potential for other Striker abilities (see notes).
  • THINKER 2 (provisional): Suspected clairvoyance or access to a non-standard information source.


DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

BRUTE RATING:
  • Durability: Subject's biological armor sustained a point-blank detonation from a Bakuda-grade concussive grenade with zero registered deformation (Source: Armsmaster's sensor logs).
  • Regeneration: Testimony from the captured Tinker Bakuda indicates the subject regenerated a shattered shoulder and pectoral mass in seconds after a direct hit from a cryogenic weapon. This claim is corroborated by the presence of cryogenic residue at the scene and Armsmaster's helmet recording, which confirms the subject was completely unharmed moments later.
MOVER RATING:
  • Subject exhibits enhanced burst mobility, capable of clearing significant distances in a single leap.
  • Primary mode of high-speed traversal is achieved via the use of manifested appendages (see Changer/Striker), allowing for rapid scaling of vertical surfaces. Evasion capabilities in urban environments are considered extremely high.
CHANGER/STRIKER RATING:
  • Subject manifests two distinct biological changes: a seamless, grey, full-body carapace, and four crimson, muscular, prehensile tentacles from the lower back.
  • The appendages are confirmed to be strong enough to punch through brickwork and are the primary source of his Mover and Striker capabilities. Full strength and combat application are unknown but assumed to be significant.
THINKER RATING:
  • The provisional rating is based on two key data points:
    1. Subject possessed actionable intelligence regarding Bakuda's dead-man switch, a fact not disseminated outside the PRT.
    2. Subject consistently anticipates and evades PRT patrol responses.
  • The source of this intelligence is the primary unknown in the subject's profile.
NOTES & ANOMALIES:
  • The "Phantom Weapon": Bakuda testified to being assaulted with a baseball bat of extreme durability. No such weapon was found at the scene, and Armsmaster's recording confirms its absence upon his arrival. This creates a conflict between witness testimony and physical evidence. The nature of this "phantom weapon", whether a misremembered detail, a de-materializing object, or another power entirely, is unconfirmed.
  • Rapid Adaptation: Subject's methods have shown a marked increase in precision and efficiency over a five-day period, indicating a rapid and dangerous learning curve.
RECOMMENDED PROTOCOLS:
  • Standard engagement protocols for high-rated Brute/Movers apply.
  • Use of wide-area containment foam is advised to restrict mobility.
  • Do not assume subject lacks intelligence. Approach with caution.
  • Standing Order (Piggot): Do not engage directly. Observe, report, and identify the source of his intelligence. Recruitment is a secondary, opportunistic goal.
 
At that point there I'd destroy the bag. He could, theoretically, source even human meat ethically. Vat grown if would be best but there are other options.
As he's not human, it's not cannibalism.
He could even summon out prime ghoul meat, this way he could become as strong as the kaneki or the one eyed owl without any danger!
 
Watched, but just a word of warning. These fics tend to get out of hand quickly if there's a constant stream of high-quality tickets. You haven't broken the curve yet, but I'd recommend always thinking twice before awarding more golds or multiple silvers for actions and achievements that aren't suitably challenging or momentous.

That all said, keep 'er going! This is good stuff.
 
Watched, but just a word of warning. These fics tend to get out of hand quickly if there's a constant stream of high-quality tickets. You haven't broken the curve yet, but I'd recommend always thinking twice before awarding more golds or multiple silvers for actions and achievements that aren't suitably challenging or momentous.

That all said, keep 'er going! This is good stuff.
Thank you! This is literally my freshman effort, but I've seen RNGesus break these kind of stories before.

I'm trying keep my veto power mostly unused, but I'm not above redoing a roll of it's too good.

Although on the scale of Worm... Some gold and below rolls could catapult him out of street level, but he'd still have a long way to facing the Endbringers, let alone Scion.
 
Although on the scale of Worm... Some gold and below rolls could catapult him out of street level, but he'd still have a long way to facing the Endbringers, let alone Scion.


Absolutely true, though that's mostly because Worm's own powerscaling got really crazy. It really comes down to how quickly you want to reach the 'toe-to-toe with walking calamities' stage.
 

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