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DC Animated Universe: The RPG (Skyrim!Gamer SI/DCAU Crossover - Haremfic)

It's been a while since I've seen that penguin profile picture. It's good to see you back!

I had to do a double take; a harem story not in the NSFW section? An odd choice, but I'm interested to see how it will play out. If you do plan on having some NSFW stuff, I'd advising moving it there. You'd get triple the engagement, at least.

I wonder what's going on in Sky Peak that's stopping all those heroes and why their security is so tight. And that's one way to start his story there... It makes me feel like he might be a bit under prepared.

A question:what were the rewards for the "breaking up" quest? I might have missed that one.

Not a big deal, but there were a minor errrors like missing words sometimes. I think Google Docs or Grammarly can catch those.
but you're not supposed to that out loud.
but you're not supposed to say that out loud.

Thanks for the chapter; I'm looking forward to see where this goes.
 
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Hmm. Neat! Thanks for the chapter :)

You're welcome! Thanks for the comment.

TFTC. That was unlucky. At least now he knows what life will be like in the new city. It looks like to be a city where security is taken seriously but due to that, threats rather than hide and bide their time are actually getting discovered early and killing a lot of people before being destroyed.

Exactly. Sky Peak city is a city on the brink and it's going to take work to pull it back.

An amusing first encounter. I do like the common sense to not do anything too revealing, and to lure the thing away from civvies. Hopefully nothing comes up in discovery while the doctor works. Getting found out due to video game regeneration, or a limb uncrippling due to medical care in an instant would SUCK. Would be hilarious as an obstacle, but man that'd be an unfortune roll.

Heh, that's a good point! I admit that I usually skip over the medical attention. In my previous gamer fic, I just handwaved it as 'the surgery uncrippled his arm' and left it at that but Skyrim is a game where your health regenerates over time. I think I'll just cut that HP regeneration just because it introduces more narrative problems than it solves.

Thanks! Have a cookie.

It's been a while since I've seen that penguin profile picture. It's good to see you back!

It's good to be back, actually! I'm having fun writing again and its great!
I had to do a double take; a harem story not in the NSFW section? An odd choice, but I'm interested to see how it will play out. If you do plan on having some NSFW stuff, I'd advising moving it there. You'd get triple the engagement, at least.

We'll see. I'm kind of squeamish when it actually comes to writing the NSFW bits and usually just fade to black. The reason I'm writing the harem is because I find the potential interpersonal dynamics fascinating.

I wonder what's going on in Sky Peak that's stopping all those heroes and why their security is so tight. And that's one way to start his story there... It makes me feel like he might be a bit under prepared.

f6448deecf625ba767b1384fe7d6a948.gif


I can't wait to get to that part of the story. It excites me. :D

A question:what were the rewards for the "breaking up" quest? I might have missed that one.

No reward. Game just makes quests to make quests. It's useful as setting up a 'to-do list'.

Not a big deal, but there were a minor errrors like missing words sometimes. I think Google Docs or Grammarly can catch those.

Let me go fix that. Have a cookie, I appreciate your diligence.


Thanks for the chapter; I'm looking forward to see where this goes.

Thank you so much for the meaty comment! I love these and I appreciate all the effort that goes into it. See you when I update! :D
 
I'm loving this so far, and can't wait to see how it continues.
Welcome back Fulcon

Thanks, Flutters! It's nice to see you too! :)


You know, Kori(Starfire)'s people are okay with harems, and I don't think it's illegal to marry several alien women all at once........just food for thought!😎

Wait what? I mean, I was thinking of going for Kori at some point but that little ditty of information just guaranteed it!

Thank you for your contribution and have a cookie! :D
 
Chapter 4 - Here's the Blacksmith! New
The following is a fan-based work of fiction. Justice League and Justice League Unlimited are all owned by DC Comics and Warner Bros. Animation. Please support the official release.

---

Health: 100%.
Your right arm is no longer crippled.

The infirmary was stocked with the most advanced medical technology I've ever seen. Surgical robots, XRVE Scanners, pharmaceutical synthesizers, the works. Once the shrapnel had been dug out of my arm and it was bandaged properly, the doctor gave me a welcome clean bill of health and I promptly paid the thankfully not that large bill directly via debit.

Quest Completed: Welcome to the City of Sky Peak!
Survive: Complete!
Retrieve your remaining Luggage: Complete!
Failed: (Optional) Destroy the monster.
Failed: (Optional) Find a safe place to hide.
Failed: (Optional) Use the chaos to bypass airport security.

The taxi was driven by a ginger, graying hair and five o'clock shadow with mermaid tattoo on his forearm. He talked, but his mumbling made it hard to understand the guy, so I just responded with the occasional nod.

As we drove into the city, it became obvious that the city's budget went into the airport. I had seen pictures, but driving through it was so much worse. Graffiti was everywhere, trash was blowing across the streets but those streets seemed almost empty.

We drove past a long series of tents pitched on the sidewalk outside empty, obviously condemned apartment buildings. There weren't many sky scrapers, but the one we drove past had a lot of broken windows.

I most surprising thing was the guy on a rocket-board, flying overhead and snatching the purse of a woman right out of her hands before turning down an alleyway and out of sight before any of us could get a good look at him. She was left screaming for help as we drove past her.

This was a city on its last legs.

"Brubrdf thieves…"

I wish he didn't mumble. "I'm sorry?"

He spoke up. "That was a Rocket-boarder. A gang of thieves running around this part of the city. They prey on just about anyone they think has money."

"And they just fly free?" I asked. That...I mean, don't the cops at least have something they can do?

"Why not?" He asked. "It's not like the cops can do anything and it sure as hell ain't like Superman's going to drop in to give us a hand. He's too busy down in Metropolis, you know?"

Well crap. "What other gangs are there? Do you know?"

He cleared his throat. "Well, there's the Apples and the Oranges, they're always fighting."

"Apples and Oranges?" I asked, blinking slowly as I processed what I heard.

"Well, they were a single gang when they got started," the Driver explained. "But when they started to get bigger, the two leads had a falling out and now they're eating each other. Serves 'em right, stupid kids."

You can't make this stuff up, can you?

"There's a couple of others, but they ain't anything worth anything," he said. "What I wouldn't give to have Mountain Man back."

"Mountain Man! I heard of him," I said, giving him a small smile. "Does anyone know where he went?"

"No, but if you find out, drag him back here," he said. "Without him, this city is doomed."

"What about Cybergirl?" I asked. "Or Solar Forge?"

"Bah, those two didn't even last a week," he waved me off, giving me a brief but great view of his tattoo. "Mountain Man! He actually stuck around and did things. You know why they called him Mountain Man? Because he could grow a hundred feet tall! Him and that axe! It was like he could chop that sky scraper down there like a tree!"

"What if we got someone new?" I asked, tilting my head.

"Not happening." He pulled the cab to a stop. "We ain't seen a cape around here in almost ten years and there's a reason for that. Anyway, this is your stop."

"Thanks, friend," I said, sliding my card in the terminal beside the door. I tipped him thirty percent, because he didn't take the long way to run up his meter and gave me valuable information. "Drive safe."

"Hey, same to you, buddy," he said as I left and shut the door behind me.

He drove off.

The apartment, high end for the city, still looked run down on the outside. There was a large, grungy stain on the upper left corner and the front window was darkly tinted and cracked.

I walked inside and came to a diner. A very clean eatery, actually, with white tile floors, a steel counter and a lot of tables and chairs. Only a couple of customers, though. Behind the counter, an elderly man looked to the also elderly woman he was working with. They were rail thin with gray hair and wearing white dress shirts with name tags on them. "Patty! Customer."

"Hey," I approached, giving them a friendly wave. "I'm Jacob Graves, your new tenant."

"Oh, yeah," he said, smiling. He walked away, around the corner, then up to me, shaking my bandaged hand. "I'm George Smiles, that's my wife Patty. I should've guessed you were the new guy from your suit cases. Come on, I'll show you to your new place."

"Thanks," I said, happily following the man through a door and up the stairs.

"Boy are we glad to see you," George said. "A couple of our previous tenants got jobs in Metropolis and Central so we were afraid we were going to be pinching our pennies until we got your phone call."

"Hey, Sky Peak seems like an exciting place," I said with a shrug.

"You could say that again," George said. "I hope you were put off by the exterior, we had to trash it to keep in line with the rest of the city. Don't want to make ourselves targets, you know? I promise your apartment is as clean as the diner down stairs."

"Hey, that makes total sense," I replied, nodding as I comprehended the disparity between the clean, well kept diner and the grungy, old apartment building.

Up the stairs we went until we got to the seventh floor. We took the first right, and came to number seventy-seven.

George fished in his pocket for a moment and withdrew a shiny, silver key. "Here you go! Patty will be up later for you to finish signing your paperwork but feel free to get settled in and then come down for a bite to eat. Welcome to Sky Peak!"

"Thanks George," I said with a grin, shaking his hand. "I'll do that. Nice to meet you."

"You as well." George gave me a nod, then turned to go back downstairs.

Quest Completed: I must go, my people need me!
Move to the City of Sky Peak: Completed.

---The next day--

The diner's actually pretty good! I'm impressed. I like the 15% bonus to my move speed their deluxe cheese burger gives me. Today, however, I had their salmon salad which made all of my skills increase 10% faster.

Anyway, I managed to score a warehouse in Sapphire Park, one of the districts here in Sky Peak. The warehouse was large, and it was empty. Four walls, a roof and a large, rolling door. Purchased some work clothes for myself, a welding mask, a welding torch, some other supplies.

Because it was finally time to start working on my Smithing skill!

Had everything I needed, a kiln, an anvil, a crucible, hammers, tongs, steel files, an apron, a multitude of molds and lots of scrap steel and rebar. Don't forget the welding torch.

First thing to do...is look on the internet and find some instructional videos. I had a small, silver laptop hooked up to a router which I purchased on my way here today. Installation was a piece of cake and then calling up an internet provider to switch me on took about ten minutes.

Okay, now!

A few clicks and a search in the browser, and I was watching a teenager in Central City doing a video in his backyard.

"Hey, welcome to my channel! My name is Danny Derrickson, and today I'm going to be showing you how to make nails!"

He took a very long piece of metal, thinner than rebar, heated up the end in his backyard kiln. When it was glowing, he took the end out and hammered it into almost a square, pointed spear before placing it on a tall, semi-pointy tool, which he then used in conjunction with his hammer to break off the point. Then he stuck the nail into another tool which fit on his anvil and hammered the top until the head had been shaped.

After quenching it in water, he brought the nail to the camera.

Your Smithing skill has increased to 1!

"And that's how you make a nail," Danny said proudly, grinning. "If you found that helpful, please leave a comment and subscribe, I would love to hear what you think! Bye now!"

Well, I did, because that was extraordinarily helpful. A like, a comment saying I enjoyed seeing the process and a subscription so I could find his videos later, and then untied my apron because I had more supplies to grab!

Didn't take long, the nearest home improvement store was about ten blocks away, and I had rented a pickup truck. Tall, semi-pointy piece of equipment was called a 'cutting hardy' while the other one which was used to hammer the nail heads was a 'nail header'. Creatively named it was not, but that really wasn't a slight against it.

I got back to my warehouse and then I got to work. For real this time, I hoped.

Fired up the kiln and stuck a small iron rod inside. I watched it closely until it heated up and drew it out, taking it to the anvil. Then I started hammering...it for some reason refused to a point. No matter how much I hit it, it just got thinner all around and when it cooled, I had to put it back in the kiln and wait for it to heat back up.

Your Smithing skill has increased to 2!

Oh, I wasn't hitting it right. Needed to hammer more at the point and less near the top. That explains a lot. When I withdrew the rod, the end seemed like a comically shrunken, glowing head. When I brought it to the anvil and hit it a single time with my hammer, it just broke off, snapping off of the main rod and snapping in two.

Your Smithing skill has increased to 3!

I just started to laugh. That's one way to mess up a nail!

And while it seemed like I was making rapid progress, the first fifteen skill levels always happened quick. Progress slowed from sixteen to twenty and then it dropped precipitously one we hit skill level fifty. Hence why I wasn't looking up any more instructional videos because the last 10 levels could take years if I wasn't scaling my projects up enough.

I probably wouldn't be able to scale my projects enough. I had infinitely replenishing money from my long-term investments, but that money only came in once every three months. Money I'd prefer to use on things like creating my actual armor.

Anyway.

My next nail started off much better, but the slope as the nail shrunk down to the point was uneven, but at least it actually had a point this time. It only took a few minutes and when I was satisfied, I brought it to the hardy and with several successful swings broke it off. Alright, so far so good, so I dropped the nail into the opening at the top of the nail header, a wrench-like tool, and...it got stuck half way up the nail, when it should only have about twenty-percent of the nail hanging up.

The uneven slope had come back to haunt me. I turned the header upside down and the nail didn't come out. I hit the header against the anvil and knocked the offending piece of iron into the scrap bin and started over.

I wasn't worried. Every single skill I had maxed involved a complete and total failure at the beginning. And every single time, I got good enough to put other masters to shame. It was only a matter of patience and persistence.

---One Week Later---

Your Smithing skill has increased to 25!

Quest Completed: Where's the Blacksmith?
Attain 25 Ranks in Smithing: (25/25).

Quest Added: Hammer and Anvil.
Attain 50 ranks in Smithing: (25/50).

I had long gotten used too to the ringing of my hammer and anvil echoing in my nearly empty warehouse. Thanks to my Athletics skill, swinging this hammer didn't actually do anything to my overall energy levels, so it was much easier to keep going than it would be for a normal person. However, checking my game stats revealed that making nails no longer gave me enough experience to be feasible to level up the Smithing skills.

That meant that it was time to switch things up. I wanted to start making my own tools, like tongs, hammers and for some reason, pipes. Why pipes? Because I want going to need to start improving the ventilation for the warehouse. It wasn't bad yet, the smoke from my kiln and forge was funneled through pipes reaching through the ceiling, but when I started making heavier machinery, this place was going to get really bad.

As I grabbed a rebar to heat and got to work, I looked around the warehouse and got distracted by plans forming in the minds eye. I had a pretty solid understanding of the basics, which meant I knew that I knew almost nothing. I think the gas chamber would go in the center of the warehouse and it's extremely important that it was made flawlessly. The super powers would come from a treatment that would take weeks and I didn't want it to take even longer by losing gas to a leak.

The Rebar was fairly long, because I intended to break it in half and turn it into a pair of tongs.

The powers I wanted were powers I had been studying for a while. First, was super strength, which in this case is actually a form of telekinesis that provides active support your skeletal structure and muscle fibers. I wanted it because it would help me take a hit in my armor without turning into human jelly. The fact that it's telekinesis actually means I can essentially control my friction by pushing lightly away from my skin; if someone wants to grapple me, it'll be like grabbing soap.

What's active support? You know how when you're holding a garden hose and it's limp, but then the water is turned on and the water pressure straightens it out? That's active support. I'm going to call it Auto-telekinesis. You know, like an auto-biography is a biography written by the person?

The second power? Healing. Medical powers. I had a theory that there was a type of radiation that I could create which living organisms could metabolize hyper efficiently and increase their healing factor. The math checks out, is what I mean. You can adjust it, too, to clean wounds of infections and disease and destroy biological detritus, such as rotting flesh. Healing is a power that will save a lot of lives. You know how many people in car accidents or plane crashes die from bleeding out? Too many!

...of course, I'll have to extensively test it because this could easily turn ugly and give people cancer. Freaking cancer as a super power, I could see headlines now. 'Hero or villain? Cancerman saves lives, but at what cost?' Imagine applying to the Justice League. "What's your power?" Superman might ask. "Cancer!" I would reply. Batman would immediately start making a contingency plan to deal with me if I went rogue, only it would be in full view of everyone and no one would be mad because I had freaking cancer powers.

Seriously, though, that would be bad.

Third power, and the reason why my selection of powers is so limited, Immortality. I'm going to live young and beautiful forever! Well, as long as I don't lose my head, get shot through the heart or – oh, the rebar is hot! Whoops, got distracted.

I withdrew the steel and got to hammering on the anvil, each stroke echoing through the still fairly empty warehouse. Gas chamber would go in the center, I need to get a whiteboard on wheels so I can start drawing plans and list components. If there was one thing I was going to need to create, it was a 3D printer; I remember those from my old life and they were really, really cool.

But I would need to make the tools to make the tools to make the tools. Right now, I'm not even at the first level of tools to make the tools. Why not just buy the tools and skip the Smithing training? Because if I don't know how to put things together, it wouldn't matter if I had the tools and they'd be sitting idle while I made nails and tongs out of rebar on an anvil.

Though I will be buying chemistry supplies to get to work synthesizing my super power serum. I'm not that crazy. The issue with mixing the serum is that all the chemicals needed to actually synthesize any kind of super serum are tightly regulated and outright illegal to buy without a government license. Most famously, Miraclo, the thing which Venom is derived from, but its not the only one.

Thankfully, I had the smarts needed to synthesize all the chemicals from other sources. Miraclo can actually be jury rigged through a long, complex chemical process that starts with latex gloves of all things. No, really. The issue is that the process is top secret and I only learned about it when I finished maxing out Biology and Chemistry. Yes, you read that right; maxing out knowledge skills gave me information the government has spent trillions of dollars to keep out the hands of enterprising people like me.

The real power of the gamer power is the ability to pass skill checks. Any skill checks.

And pass them I shall.

The really cool part is that because I can source all of my specialized materials from mundane places, there isn't a paperwork trail that can lead to similarly enterprising super villains to discovering my secret identity, which is the really cool part.

…of course, there's going to be a lot of mundane materials I'll have to grab...this is going to be expensive…

Actually, you know what I just remembered. The Justice League! They aren't a thing yet. The Justice League has yet to be founded. Which strikes me as odd, now that I think about it, but I guess they haven't had a chance to work together in such and such a situation that would...bring them together.

Something big.

Apocalyptic.

A world ending threat, you might say.



And Superman is disarming all of our nukes.



OH CRAP!

---

Author's Note: And that's chapter 4! A little bit of a snapshot of Sky Peak before some exposition about Jacob's plans for his future. I'm not exactly sure when my chapters went from being 5k words long minimum to 3k, but I know it was while I was writing Giving Up. The Arc is going slightly longer than I thought, but I think it's going to be worth it when Jacob's finally flying high!

Thanks for reading, please let me know what you thought, I'm anxious for your feedback.

Until the next time!

~Fulcon
 
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So... Important tip about plausible secret identities, and chem tinkering is that it's quite possible to track people with tinker like powers by large amounts of purchases related to the process. While it IS true that all ingredients having mundane sources grants a base level of deniability, it wouldn't surprise me if a government paying out the nose to keep chemical processes secret would monitor purchasing patterns for anything especially odd. It's probably not a big deal, but making sure to also buy a wide variety of things with general purpose utility not related to power serum plans is a good idea. Perhaps with the excuse of starting a small business or similar? The reason I say this is that buying large quantities of material with no demonstrated use for it is actually not that subtle if you're describing someone looking into your purchases for patterns. These are things you learn going into economics or accounting though for more mundane things like various forms of fraud detection.

I will also point out that doing this well away from major cities or hero/villain stomping grounds DOES likely help buy time to establish the cover in all likelihood. You can even swing it as having picked this city for low competition due to people who CAN leave very much wanting to. If you take this route though, you'd expect the gangs to want protection money for a piece of the pie.

It is also fine if you wanna handwave this a little. Goodness knows comics conventions regularly handwave worse with less justification than you've given. This is just about if you wanna go higher detail than these sorts of stories generally do.
 
TFTC. Action soon I guess?

Yeah, hopefully! But I've been wrong before as events in the story start to take up room in the cache.

Yarrr. No nukes for thee!

NO! I NEED THOSE!

Thanks for the chapter

Thanks for the comment!

So... Important tip about plausible secret identities, and chem tinkering is that it's quite possible to track people with tinker like powers by large amounts of purchases related to the process. While it IS true that all ingredients having mundane sources grants a base level of deniability, it wouldn't surprise me if a government paying out the nose to keep chemical processes secret would monitor purchasing patterns for anything especially odd. It's probably not a big deal, but making sure to also buy a wide variety of things with general purpose utility not related to power serum plans is a good idea. Perhaps with the excuse of starting a small business or similar? The reason I say this is that buying large quantities of material with no demonstrated use for it is actually not that subtle if you're describing someone looking into your purchases for patterns. These are things you learn going into economics or accounting though for more mundane things like various forms of fraud detection.

This is actually great information to know, and a good suggestion to 'start a small business'. Having thought about it, I was actually wondering if simply stating that he's a hobbyist because he's technically retired might be good enough for the authorities? At that point the issue becomes continuing the purchasing and making sure the things that are bought make sense for the hobby he is apparently hobby-ing. Blacksmithing is a hobby, right?

I will also point out that doing this well away from major cities or hero/villain stomping grounds DOES likely help buy time to establish the cover in all likelihood. You can even swing it as having picked this city for low competition due to people who CAN leave very much wanting to. If you take this route though, you'd expect the gangs to want protection money for a piece of the pie.


That's another good point and something to consider.

It is also fine if you wanna handwave this a little. Goodness knows comics conventions regularly handwave worse with less justification than you've given. This is just about if you wanna go higher detail than these sorts of stories generally do.

I mean...if I want to be lazy, I guess I could...do I want to be lazy?

Have a cookie.
 
I'm not saying you CAN'T get away with hobbyist. Might even work for a while. It's even a good backup. There's one simple hole in that cover though. There's suddenly nothing tying you to the place we've established is a dying city people of means actively move away from. No family there, no established friends before arrival, and a lower standard of living, and higher crime to deal with. It becomes a question why you didn't just do what you were doing in your home city.

If you're starting a small business there's a cynical line that writes itself in people's minds. The people still here don't have good options for whatever you're providing, and thus so long as service is even just acceptable money is inevitable. With the gang presence, and likely attempt at protection rackets it's a gamble, but one you could see someone make. I won't say it's airtight, but people tend to stop questioning motivations when they can see something nakedly profit motivated.

Still totally ALSO use the hobbyist excuse though, as you actually ARE doing that, and it gives a nice reason why instead of actually working at the business in question you just hire locally and administrate. Suddenly you've got a reason to be here, a reason why people don't see you often outside of social calls, and you don't have people questioning why someone with a history as industrious as yours chose to retire to a hero-lacking wasteland more or less right out of education. There's even another reason it's advantageous.

Assuming things go reasonably well it's an additional revenue stream to funnel into powers you even mention in the chapter require money to most effectively foster. Let's assume that whichever gang holds territory over you demands as much as twenty percent of your profit. Do you have a concept of the money you can make as any kind of primary service node for even a rundown city? I'm willing to bet the numbers look enticing to supplement income that happens every three months.
 
Indeed it is. Something you'll find more and more over time as you go on while making or fleshing out worlds is that the most fertile development comes when you think less in terms of requirements, and more in terms of the push and pull of cause and effect.

And yes the main reason I shot out the small business option as first pick to make the cover stronger was that it was the simplest method for doing something similar we know works in the real world. The secondary, much funnier reason is that the Batman parallels are amazing.
 
This is actually great information to know, and a good suggestion to 'start a small business'. Having thought about it, I was actually wondering if simply stating that he's a hobbyist because he's technically retired might be good enough for the authorities? At that point the issue becomes continuing the purchasing and making sure the things that are bought make sense for the hobby he is apparently hobby-ing. Blacksmithing is a hobby, right?

Theoretically, he could put the healing stuff under his public identity, sell himself as the sanest mad scientist, and then just sell it to anyone that wants it to justify his superhero self having it. That would justify buying lots of stuff and then writing it off, only occasionally actually publicly announcing a new thing: most of it "goes to waste as part of the invention process".
 
Risky play to link super-science to public identity though I won't deny there are benefits. First I'll list the good so I don't come off immediately negative. A publicly available source of healing tech would help a lot of people, your money intake would be staggering, and you may attract positive heroic attention. That last one becomes even more likely when they form the league. On the other hand...

For bad news gangs want super healing too, and if they're ANYTHING to do with why heroes disappear we've defeated the point of a secret identity. The kidnap attempts would be real. The kidnap attempts would be frequent. Finally the kidnap attempts would come from all local crime elements. All of this bad happens without even considering someone linking your public and cape identities, because public knowledge healing tech is plenty to make it happen on its own.

Were you to do anything like this it would be safest to release healing tech for sale to multiple relevant companies such that no one can single your company out. This would be your hero identity doing it after being well established. You may, or may not, release the tech to your own company as a gambit to keep it under the big radar.

To use trope speak, this very problem is often the reason Reed Richards is useless. Helping the public from your public identity paints a target on you, and possibly starts a small war depending on your significance.
 
Chapter 5 - Motivation New
The following is a fan-based work of fiction. Justice League and Justice League Unlimited are all owned by DC Comics and Warner Bros. Animation. Please support the official release.

---

---Two Months Later---

Your Smithing skill has risen to 56!


Quest Completed: Hammer and Anvil.
Attain 50 ranks in Smithing: (50/50).

Quest Added: Master Craftsman.
Attain 75 ranks in Smithing: (56/75).

I only sleep in the apartment once a week now, and that's just so I can pick up salmon salads. Aside from that, my time is spent working this damn forge. Practically working myself to the bone, here.

You know, I really should've put two and two together like three months ago when I first saw that news that Superman was disarming the world. I still don't know how he managed to get Russia and China to cooperate, but if I had to guess, its that they were afraid of another invasion from Apokalypse.

That's its name, right? Apokalypse?

The warehouse was now filled with tools. Tongs, hammers, cutters, you name it, hanging from wooden boards in quantities not out of place in a tool factory. The other things I made? Knives. Knives and swords. They were pretty nice knives and swords, I had to say.

Regardless, I was sharpening another sword, pumping the grindstone with my foot as I worked. Sparks flew as the blade had it's uneven parts smoothed out into a fine edge.

Whatever. I don't know how long I've got, but I've got to get ready before the other shoe drops and we're facing another invasion from Apokalypse or Space or from the Land of Dreams for all I know!

Once the blade was sharpened to my satisfaction, I stood and walked over to the rack where I placed all of my other swords. It was at that point that I figured something else out; I didn't actually know what my costumed identity was going to be.

With a pair of my homemade tongs, I pulled the crucible out of the kiln and poured the flaming murder soup of molten iron into a mold in the shape of an axe blade. Well, it wasn't an open mold, so you wouldn't know what it was by looking at it but I knew what it was.

...wait, did I?

This was the axe mold, right?

Once the murder soup had finished pouring, I plugged the mold on the top and looked at the blue tape label on the side, which had the word 'axe' written in black sharpie.

Whew, that's a relief. I almost wasted all that metal.

At that moment, my cellphone rang. Pulling my blacksmith glove off of one hand with the other, I pulled it out and answered it, without checking the caller ID.

That was a mistake. "Hello?"

"Jacob! Hey, it's Dad!" I found myself sharply taking in breath. Yes, they raised me, but I had the mind of an adult that whole time. Hated not being able to make any decisions for myself and so I didn't like seeing them. "How have you been, we haven't seen you in a while?"

"Been good, Dad, very good," I said. They weren't abusive or bad or anything. In fact, I think they were great parents! I just hated being under someone else's authority. On a deep, deep, intimately personal level. In fact, the reason I worked so damn hard to max my skills was to accelerate my exit from under their roof. "I moved, but it sound's like you figured that out."

"We did," Dad said. "Where did you move?"

"Sky Peak," I replied with a shrug. "Off in Red Mountain."

"Sky Peak?" Dad repeated. "Why?"

"Have you seen the pictures of the mountains?" I asked, my mouth twisting into a smirk. "Gorgeous!"

"Yeah, I'll bet its pretty," Dad replied. "Whose the superhero out there?"

"They don't actually have one," I reported.

"They don't?" Dad repeated. "Oh, your mother is going to be worried."

"It's actually not that bad," I lied.

Lies are a weapon, and like any weapon, you need to use it responsibly. In this case, I'm using it to protect myself from social encroachment by a pair of people who think they're owed my time just because they 'raised' me. If you're trying to protect yourself from what you know have coming, that's an irresponsible, but tempting, use of lying. Don't do that.

"You're staying indoors, right?" Dad asked, almost a little too quickly.

"Yeah, my current project is mostly an indoor affair," I reported.

"Oh, good!" He seemed happy. "What is it?"

"Sword making," I said, looking at the mold. "Actually, right now its an axe. Still, same thing. Blacksmithing. I'm getting pretty good at it."

"That's my boy," Dad said happily. "Eclectic but driven. Say, your Mom wanted me to ask you if you've been seeing any girls lately."

I slowly blinked, trying to chase away the irritation with the force of shutting my eyes before opening them. "Not since I moved. Why?"

"Oh, she was just telling me that she really missed the sounds of little feet on the ground," Dad said, giving me a very unsubtle hint as to the reason for this phone call.

I sighed. "Dad, please just spit it out."

"Well, we're getting older and we were hoping to see grandkids soon." Dad did, as requested, spit it out. "Having a child was the best decision we ever made and I think that if you don't, you'll be missing out."

I frowned. Well, I don't live in Metropolis anymore, so its not like they can just drop by to press the issue. "Listen, the more mom harangue's me about this, the less I want to start a family. I'll do it when I'm ready and not a second before."

Like when...no, no. Think about this later.

"Oh," Dad said. "Alright, well I guess I better let you go. Can we get your address? Your mom wanted to send you a package."

"Tell her I appreciate it, but that she can keep it," I said, pressing my lips into a fine line. "I'll talk to you later."

"B-" I didn't even give him the chance to finish.

Just leave me alone, you two! You want grandkids, fine. I get it. That is my obligation to you for raising me. I completely accept that. But I'll meet that obligation on my terms and you know what, I just realized that moving to get away from family is such a perfect excuse that I'm going to use it from now on.

Anyway, what was I thinking?

Oh, right, I was forging an axe blade.

I opened the mold and pulled out the blade. It was in the correct shape, but dull and without any place for the handle to be inserted. So, I brought it over to the drill press and slotted the blade into the vice I had fitted on it and turned it on.

...but, hang on, I was thinking of something else. What was it...oh, right. Who my super heroic identity would be. I don't know. I want something sleek, high tech and clearly at home in the sky because I want to fly, which means I need a jetpack.

There was a hero I remember from my old life. World War 2 era, punched Nazi's, but I don't remember his name. Wore a flight coat, brass helmet and an amazing looking jetpack – The Rocketeer! Yeah, him! I want to base my costume slightly on him. Maybe a super high-tech version of him. A futuristic fighter-pilot helmet, too.

Need a name.

I finished drilling out the axe blade, so I pulled it out of the vice and took it over to the workbench where axe handles and a hammer awaited. I fit the blade to a handle and started hammering it into place.

Something to do with the air. Sky King? Nah, that's taken. Not sure by who, but it was taken by someone. Aeroknight? That's almost too complicated. Air Knight? Maybe not Knight. Airman? I'm not in the Air Force.

With the blade on the handle, sanded town the top so it fit flush with the blade, and got to work cutting out the kerf, a small divot in the top of the handle.

Sky Peak had super villains but for some reason, the rest of the country doesn't care. I think it's because the world is really concerned with world-ending threats and their own super villains. No time or interest in a decaying city without any hope. No story for the press to sensationalize. It was just a slow, depressing, downward spiral.

The divot was cut out and I hammered the wedge into place, then I sanded the top down to be smooth.

Let's see...the biggest offender was some guy named Overlord. Super secretive guy, has had the police stumped for years. Only reason we know about him is that time when one of the city's sky scrapers collapsed into a neat, square pile with the DA inside and then the local press received a note from the guy, claiming responsibility. Since then, we've had a couple of other crimes; a bank heist where the only thing stolen was a thumb-drive, a few murders, but he takes responsibility for each. Why? Why bring the spotlight to himself? Does he have half the force in his pocket? Wouldn't surprise me.

Then there's that team of four anarchists, armed to the teeth with some of the best military hardware in the world who always show up to cause some kind of mayhem and then disappear right after. Without a trace. How did they get armed? Where do they go? Some footage I saw of them just featured them shooting. No shouting, no communicating, but they always acted with perfect teamwork.

I took the axe over to the grindstone and got to sharpening.

Then there's whoever took out my predecessors. I mean, I'm assuming they were taken out. Strongly assuming that's the case. Technically, none of my predecessor's deaths were even confirmed, they were just declared missing, then presumed dead. Presumed. No body, no recovered equipment, no nothing. The only common thread was that they all were heading into the Obsidian Wood south of Sky Peak for one heroic reason or another.

Alright, the axe is done!

Your Smithing has increased to 57!

Quest Updated: Master Craftsman.
Attain 75 ranks in Smithing (57/75).

Ay, good stuff!

You have reached level 67!

Whoa! That was not expected! More good stuff! Well, it means I've got more Health, Stamina and Energy now since those directly scale with level. Beyond that, there's nothing else. I mean, I don't have perks in the skill trees or anything. Tragic, but that's the game.

Anyway.

The last thing? Well, I haven't heard of anything, except the last time there was a lightning storm up in the mountains, some people saw a pirate ship sailing through the clouds. No, really. The tabloids were all over it but no one pays attention to the tabloids.

And why would they? It's a pirate ship in the mountains. Which just means that I need to take it with absolute seriousness.

Had to wonder what was really going on, though. Overlord. What's he doing? Playing the long game, obviously, but what is it? World domination? I mean, probably. But how is he going to achieve it?

Wasn't anything on the Obsidian Wood, either. By all accounts on the internet, it's just a forest. No local legends, no stories, nothing that I could find. Which is so strange. It doesn't make any sense. Three, count them, three superheroes have gone missing in that place! You'd think there would be some explanation as to why.

The four anarchists are the ones that scare me, though. Were they telepathic and communicate with their thoughts? Would they find out my secret identity as I fight by reading my mind or combing through my memories? I'd need to find some kind of protection from that.

But then, I come back to my original question.

My heroic identity.

My whiteboard was full of drawings of what my eventual costume might look like. I erased them all and started making a bullet-point list of what I was thinking in blue marker.

I'm going to be a medic, so white was practically a requirement for my color scheme. Blue was my favorite color, so we're going to include that. Blue body-suit with white armor plates, which includes the jetpack. How will people know my name, whatever its going to be?

...well, if I want to be lazy and avoid doing public relations, I could just write it down on my breastplate. Like as a caption across the plate covering my left pectoral. But I need a name! A cool, fun-to-say name.

Since white is a color of mine, maybe Cloud? Or Cloud Something. Cloud Knight? Almost. That's really good. Cloud Knight. Cloud. Knight. CLOUD. Knight. It's not quite what I'm looking for, but it's darn close.

Cloud Strike?

Yeah, I like that. "Cloud Strike," I said, testing to see how it rolled off of the tongue. Yeah, I like it! I'm coming from the clouds and I'm punishing evil-doers. It's great!

Except that the word 'Strike' says something aggressive and while I'm definitely going to be aggressive, I don't want that to be my main focus. I'm going to be a medic, my emphasis is going to be on saving lives not necessarily fighting evil-doers.

...which brings to mind the question of why I was doing this. Well, it's DC. Who hasn't wanted to be a superhero alongside Superman and Batman? That's living the dream!

Isn't it?

I stepped away from the whiteboard, sitting down in a rolling chair and moving over to my desk.

But what if that's not enough?

Psychology Check Success: 100/70.

It's not enough.

I need something more substantial than being a fanboy, obsessed with the other heroes of my day. Okay, fine. I protect people because I think people are inherently good and need someone to show them the way! I'm an example, an exemplar, a savior of men!

...that's just not true. For starters, there's my...proclivities which make me question whether or not I even could even be a good person. Not just talking about my non-monogamy, here, either.

Putting more holes in that idea, I don't even think people are inherently good. In fact, I think the exact opposite of that. People are selfish, hedonistic, lazy animals who only behave appropriately because they fear the consequences of the law.

If people were inherently good, we'd have optimized society in such a way as to remove unnecessary suffering by now. Hunger, homelessness, they would be gone. They would've been gone a very, very long time ago.

Which begs the question, why do Superman, Batman, The Flash and so on do what they do? Super heroics are not a walk in the park. It's a sacrifice that they undertake willingly. Batman's traumatized, but he's trying to save his villains. Superman helps because the world needs him and so its a source of approval and self-esteem. It's not like my cynicism is drawn upon by my lived experience, either, it's drawn from my studies into the field of psychology. The idea that people are inherently good is false and only exists to flatter people's ego.

It's compassion, but I guess I don't understand where compassion comes from. I know it exists, I've experienced and shown compassion in my life, I promise. There was that time I helped that old lady with a broken leg with her groceries in when I was seven, or stood up for that kid in middle school who was being bullied because he hadn't grown a spine yet. Heck, even just being here in The City of Sky Peak instead of taking the easy route of just being another of Superman's sidekicks in Metropolis is proof of that.

Except, no. No, it's not. I picked a city without a superhero because I didn't want to play second fiddle to anyone. It was to flatter my ego. So no, it's not compassion that's brought me here. I mean, maybe it is. If I was completely devoid of it, I'd have no qualms becoming a super villain and my rules around dating wouldn't exist.

And what is compassion? Being pro-social? Makes sense. Would it make me happy to be a superhero? Well, yeah. I've invested countless hours into preparing to be a superhero, I'd like to see it pay off. But if I don't have an intrinsic reason to be a superhero, I'm not going to stay a superhero.



I'm wasting time and going in circles.

I stood up and got back to work, forging another sword.

---

Unfortunately, all my survival bars had turned red in the workshop and I had no supplies, so I came back home to the diner. Thankfully, my drowsiness and blurred vision didn't get me pulled over, but I did almost cause an accident when I ran a stop sign.

Need to be more responsible, that was completely unacceptable.

I was sitting at one of the diners tables, head in my arms because I was tired. The clean diner had only one other customer, a guy who lived here that I had seen before, two heads shorter than me and a stick-figure, black hair and brown eyes. He was eating a steak over by the cracked window.

"Here you go," Patty, the lovely old lady who helped run this apartment complex with her husband, came by with my deluxe burger and soder cola. I had a lot of salmon over the past few months and I wanted something that would help me get to bed faster. Literally. "One deluxe burger and a soder cola. You let me know if you need anything else, alright?"

"Thanks Patty," I said, grabbing my burger and taking a massive bite out of it. After chewing and swallowing my first bite, the food bar in the corner of my vision filled, and the image in the center changed to that of the burger, but it was grayed out in sections and I knew from experience that the buff would only take effect when I finished eating.

"So have you been doing alright?" Patty asked, hands on her hips. "You seemed like such a social butterfly when you first showed up."

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, sipping my soder through my straw, downing it and returning my thirst bar to the yellow, but only barely. The caffeine put a line through the half-way point in my sleep bar, meaning that as long as I had caffeine in my system, I would be able to act like my bar was half-full. "Just started a project when I got here and then realized that I'm on the clock, so I don't have much time for socializing."

The issue with caffeine is that your sleep bar keeps going downward so even if you don't feel it, the penalties from lack of sleep still accumulate and caffeine can only be reapplied so many times before I get the 'Caffeinated Shock' debuff, where I can't benefit from caffeine for twenty four hours. I learned about that in High School, don't ask me how.

"Must be some clock," Patty said. "You're working twenty-four seven, which is an awful lot for someone whose supposed to be retired."

"Still got that youthful vigor," I said with a grin and taking another bite of my burger.

"Yeah, I can see that," Patty said, returning my grin. "You just seemed a little upset when you came in the door, so I was wondering."

I shrugged. "My Dad called me today."

"Oh." Patty had a pensive look on her face. "Are you not close with your folks?"

"It's not that," I said. "It's just that I value my independence and life was difficult for me when I didn't have it."

"You're afraid they're going to keep trying to tell you what to do, huh?" Patty summed up, giving me a sympathetic look. "Yeah, I see that. Coming from me, they're just scared of losing their little boy, you know?"

"Well, yeah," I said, frowning at the half-eaten burger clutched in my fingers like talons. "But I'm scared of not having my own life. So, who wins?"

"Well, you do, Jacob," Patty said. "That's why they're afraid."

From his place behind the counter, George added to the conversation. "They'll get over it. They just don't know what to do with themselves now that they've got an empty nest."

Oh, so I made the right call enforcing a boundary. I mean, that's usually the right call, I was almost nervous that I was being unreasonable. I mean, Mom just wanted to send me a package and...nah. Nah, she can keep it.

I don't need them anymore. Maybe someday I'll head back and visit.

"So why did you come to Sky Peak?" Patty asked.

To be a superhero for a city without one. Though the reasons why I want to be a superhero are currently up for debate. Also? "To get away from family."

"And you picked Sky Peak?" Patty asked, laughing.

"I mean, those mountains are gorgeous," I said, pointing out the window. "Besides, I doubt this city is doomed, its just a bit of a fixer upper."

Patty smirked. "Just a bit."

I held up my hand and made a pincer out of my fingers. "Just a tiny bit."

Patty laughed.

"Yeah, just a bit of spit and a little elbow grease, it'll look good as new," George said.

You know, except for the gangs, the lunatics and the little surprises that constantly stream out of the airport. Those are always fun!

At that moment, a chill brushed up against my cheek and I started to look around for the thing setting off my danger sense.

Patty frowned. "Jacob, what's wrong?"

The door opened, and in walked a trio of distinguished gentlemen wearing orange hoodies and black headbands with oranges on them. The lead, a portly Latino with a thin mustache smiled. "Patty, George! Hey, I'm here to collect your payment."

It was like a blizzard had rushed into the diner with them.

"Right. Of course, Martinez," Patty said, hurriedly walking around the counter to join her husband.

"We're a little short today," George said, popping the register and dumping the contents on the counter, before handing him the dollar bills. "Here's what we had."

Martinez flipped through the money with a cold expression on his face. "Fifty and some change ain't just short, old man. Are you trying to cheat us?"

George's eyes widened. "No, no! I would never! You guys have been real good to us. We're just short today because the oven broke!"

"That is just not my problem," Martinez replied, arching an eyebrow. One of the guys behind him drew a baseball bat from behind his back and started tapping it in his hand.

I stood up and walked forward. "Take it easy, I think I saw the old man drop his wallet in the back when he was paying the repairman."

"Oh you think so?" Martinez asked, walking forward and glaring right into my soul. "And you are you supposed to be?"

The guy that's going to cave your face in when his armor is done. "Just a guy. I was helping them move some stuff in the back earlier. You'll get your money."

Speech Check Success: 100/65.

"Alright." Martinez started to nod. "Okay, I see you. Go find his wallet and maybe there will be enough to pay the bill."

I gestured to George with my head and both he and Patty followed me into the back.

The kitchen wasn't as clean as the diner. It just wasn't. Crumbs and leftovers were everywhere, the garbage was filling up. But there were counters, ovens and stove tops all around and in the center.

Pulling my wallet out, I turned to face the elderly couple. "How much?"

"It's five hundred," George immediately said.

I kept money on me to pay off thieves so they'll leave me alone, but I didn't keep that much. "Okay. Where's the nearest ATM?"

"Just out back," Patty said, pointing out the door. "Its in the alleyway beside our dumpster."

"Be back in a minute." I started for it. "George, drop your wallet somewhere and then both of you act like you're looking for it. If they come in after you, act like I'm in the freezer looking for it."

Exiting the door, I came to the alley. Immediately, I saw the ATM, a heavily armored computer terminal with a card reader. A minute later, I had five hundred dollars in my hand but that was the rest of my blacksmithing budget for the month.

I took a deep breath and headed back for the kitchen.

"Got it!" I said, holding the money aloft as a frosty feeling washed over my face.

It was then that the door back out to the diner opened and in walked Martinez and his goons. "Hey, you got our money! Good work, kid. Now hand it over."

I wasn't proud of it, but I handed over the money.

"Thank you kindly," Martinez said with a smile. He turned to George. "In the future, be more responsible and keep your dates straight and then you wouldn't have to get bailed out by a good Samaritan, would you?"

"He dropped his wallet out back," I lied, pointing out back as the chill started to fade.

"He sure did," Martinez agreed, slowly nodding. "He sure did. Come on guys, we're done here."

The three left and the chill disappeared.

My fists were tight enough to turn my knuckles white. "Okay. Those are the Orange's, huh?"

"Yeah." George let out a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. "Hey, thanks. We owe you one."

"You saved us big time," Patty said, rubbing her shaking hands together to work off the nerves.

"Don't worry about it," I said. "Seriously, don't."

"At least let me bake you a cake," Patty implored.

"...alright, you can bake me a cake," I said, scratching the back of my head. "Anyway, I'm going to finish my burger and hit the hay...hey, you don't think the Apple's will show up tonight, do you?"

"Nah," George answered, shaking his head. "This is pretty solidly Orange territory."

"Thank goodness," I said, leaving the kitchen and returning to...my...burger.

Where a half-eaten burger should've been, there was an empty plate.

I let out a growl of frustration.

"What's wrong?" Patty asked, emerging from the kitchen.

"They ate my burger!" I growled, seeing the burger icon in my hunger bar disappear as my time to eat it elapsed.

"We'll make you another one, dear," Patty said. "Free of charge."

"Thanks," I said, holding my hands in my head. At least I ate enough that my hunger bar wouldn't deplete in the meantime.

I have never experience empty survival bars and I hope to never find out what happens when they do empty.



I understood how people could stoop that low. In a city like this, people did what they had to survive. It was a predator and prey dynamic and you didn't begrudge a predator for eating a prey whose only sin was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But to see it first hand? To see how scared Patty and George were, after they had been nothing but kind to me since we've met?

It galled me.

And I think I had an answer to my question.

In a city like this, there were still good, honest people. Even when its been reduced to an almost dog eat dog world, there were still people who were good, even when our natural inclination would be to become as selfish as we needed to be in order to protect ourselves.

Which means, I guess, if you'll forgive me being sappy, that good is a miracle.

It shouldn't exist. I almost think natural selection is entirely against it. The strong eat and the weak starve. Yet good not only exists, but it thrives, and there's a lot of good in the world. Superman himself, The Wayne Foundation's endless charity work, even people extending an encouraging word to someone down. Like I was.

What was his name? The other comic company's headliner, Spider-Man? His motto was With Great Power comes Great Responsibility? I think I've found my motto.

Good is a miracle. It deserves protection.

And the people of Sky Peak have been without a guardian for so long time that they have almost lost hope.

A guardian I hope to be.



Wait.

Guardian.

Guard.

Cloud Guard.

That! That's me! That one! Cloud Guard!

That's my name!

My name is Cloud Guard!

---

Author's Note: Here we are! I decided on Cloud Guard because it just feels good to say. At least, it does to me. Got some more thoughts on paper. Before you ask, there are perks, they're just tied to high level quest rewards. The skills are actually structured in such a way that the perks you would normally get are just implicitly built into the skill.

I don't have much else to say, but I hope you enjoyed the chapter in any case. I predict he'll get his costumed identity in two, maybe three more chapters, but now it's starting to coalesce.

Thanks for reading and make sure to tell me what you think!

Until the next time!

~Fulcon
 
"Lieutenant Parker, Cloud Guard," I answered evenly.

Just, there's a lot you can do with a mask and a plethora of provided skills. I seem to remember an arc where Peter Parker dropped the 'Spiderman' name and came up with four other personas. Just so he could keep going out and helping people without being harrassed.

So a vaguely 'military group' sounding name like Cloud Guard would allow him to field multiple 'capes', each with their own specific affectations like the Green Lanterns.

"Which one are you though?"

"No, we're the Cloud Guard. One and All."
 
Just, there's a lot you can do with a mask and a plethora of provided skills. I seem to remember an arc where Peter Parker dropped the 'Spiderman' name and came up with four other personas. Just so he could keep going out and helping people without being harrassed.

Prodigy, Shadow, Richochet and Beetle. There's a whole other fanfiction I have thought of based on those four persona's, actually! Thanks for reminding me, that was a good one.

Have a cookie! :D
 
For bad news gangs want super healing too,

See, that's why it being tech and available to all helps. It doesn't 100% remove the risk, but any bad guys with disposable income in the slightest will just buy it. Add in approaching big companies with offers for subsidized healing as a joint PR move lets him include Lexcorp, Wayne Enterprises and a few other hero companies. Lexcorp both gives Lex incentive to not directly mess with the protagonist since he can just meet with the protagonist and it funnels healing towards the villains, which genuinely isn't that big a deal.

Not a perfect solution but it's good.
 
Honestly? Really enjoying this. Not a big super hero fan, but the concepts you're working with and the quality of writing are both great. I can't wait to read more! Here's hoping for a diverse harem.

Hey, thanks! I appreciate your kind words and I can't wait to bring you more to read! Have a cookie.

Bro, you made my day by mentioning rocketeer. I watched the hell out of that movie as a kid, and you brought back so much nostalgia.

Nostalgia is the best drug. Bar none.

Have a cookie.

Not a perfect solution but it's good.

I'm still taking notes.

thanks for the chapter

You're welcome! Thanks for the comment. :D
 
First, I deeply appreciate the explanation of why in the blue hell we still haven't seen any perks yet.

Now for the much more interesting discussion on just why "good" is a common trait to evolve. An animal that always fights, even when it doesn't have to, will lose eventually. To lose without allies to fall back on in nature is to die. Also weaklings who don't hate each other will happily band together to kill or severely injure a strong loner they hate. In nature severely injure is code for slow death.

Friendship, allies, and teamwork are some of the most potent advantages in nature, because numbers are literally power. If you can't have that you generally at least need the good sense to not be a hated target. For example do you think it's advantageous in the long term to act in such a way that people actively fantasize about caving in your hypothetical skull?

This is not to say that everyone who is polite is a good or even non-bad person. It's just that acting bad comes with costs.
 
First, I deeply appreciate the explanation of why in the blue hell we still haven't seen any perks yet.

And I apologize for delaying it! It kind of just occurred to me that Skyrim had perks and Jacob...doesn't. Still, I'm glad I eventually answered the question.

Now for the much more interesting discussion on just why "good" is a common trait to evolve. An animal that always fights, even when it doesn't have to, will lose eventually. To lose without allies to fall back on in nature is to die. Also weaklings who don't hate each other will happily band together to kill or severely injure a strong loner they hate. In nature severely injure is code for slow death.

Friendship, allies, and teamwork are some of the most potent advantages in nature, because numbers are literally power. If you can't have that you generally at least need the good sense to not be a hated target. For example do you think it's advantageous in the long term to act in such a way that people actively fantasize about caving in your hypothetical skull?

This is not to say that everyone who is polite is a good or even non-bad person. It's just that acting bad comes with costs.

And you win this box of cookies!

I admit I was more working toward the emotional beat but the evolutionary justification for pro-social 'good' behavior is a very welcome addition to this discussion. Thank you, my friend. :)
 
Let's Go! Fulcon is Back!? Hell yeah! Welcome back good sir, and I hope the break has been refreshing and benefitial.

Bit of the 'been a bit' rust in the first couple chapters. But I've always felt he's been best in working a scene within parameters, rather than setup. Establishing 'which DC' is always a crapshoot too.

Looks like were in late 90's cartoon verse about to go into Justice League/Unlimited verse with some extra bits.

Lacking an Enchanting/magic system, Graves is basically signed up for a ground pounder, street level hero. We don't get enough of that, always cosmic power fantasies. I love some 'With This Ring' or 'Project Gamer V.2', but it stops being about the events. The helping just becomes rote, assumed. Street level heroism is gonna be cool, even if it goes to full Justice League level Street heroism. Green Arrow does it, it happens.

Gotta ask? Can Blacksmithing 100 and Chemistry 100 make some fun alloys? maybe make some of those spring open self defense clubs that actually works as meme'ed or treating leather or cotton with something to make light armor with heavy protection functionality. We're in DC here. Acid guns are a thing. Hell, maxed out sciences could have already cracked Mr. Freeze's tech. Maybe Cloud Guard does some 'heroic version of Weather Wizard' stuff.

But again? Its great, looking forward to whatever you put out and once more Its good to see you back.
 
Let's Go! Fulcon is Back!? Hell yeah! Welcome back good sir, and I hope the break has been refreshing and benefitial.

Thanks very much for the comment! I appreciate your kind words! :)

Bit of the 'been a bit' rust in the first couple chapters. But I've always felt he's been best in working a scene within parameters, rather than setup. Establishing 'which DC' is always a crapshoot too.

...yeah, I'm horrible at setup. Mostly because I'm super impatient and want to get to the fun stuff. Always got something to learn. But honestly I think I can pull it together by the next time I start a fic, but who knows?


Looks like were in late 90's cartoon verse about to go into Justice League/Unlimited verse with some extra bits.

Yes sir, the Timmverse! Specifically, the Justice League Cartoon (not unlimited, the one before that). Perhaps I should clarify that in the title somewhere. I'll have to think about it.

Unasked for opinion on how things could go, open at own risk

You're half right. There's going to be a lot of street crime because of how bad things have gotten in Sky Peak, but it's going to be interspersed with occasional 'fate of the world' nonsense that happens in Superhero stories. But there is going to be street crime.


But again? Its great, looking forward to whatever you put out and once more Its good to see you back.
Thanks again! Have a cookie. :)
 
Chapter 6 - Difficulties New
The following is a fan-based work of fiction. Justice League and Justice League Unlimited are all owned by DC Comics and Warner Bros. Animation. Please support the official release.

---


I woke up early in the morning. One of the benefits of being a Game Character in real life is that I was never drowsy. Quick shower because the Body Odor debuff was embarrassing to even hold and then I was off in my truck to the warehouse.

It was still dark, the sun hadn't come up. The brisk morning air had filled my lungs. Mist seemed to glide across the pavement as I pulled up to the warehouse. I parked, got out and started walking toward...the entrance.

The front door was swinging in the breeze. A pair of holes had been blown where the knob and bolt were supposed to be. I got over to it and ran inside the warehouse. Lights on. Immediately, the place felt empty, a sensation which only got sharper as I saw that things were missing.

Most of my swords were gone. So were my knives and axes. A majority of my tools, the nice ones, were nowhere to be seen. My whiteboard remained, thankfully. I felt a freezing sensation in my stomach until I remembered that I had erased anything superhero on it.

As it was, my breathing was shallow, and it only got worse as I started turning over every piece of paper and scrap metal, looking for what remained. Only the scrap metal and the tools I made when I was still working on Where's the Blacksmith? were left.

I pulled my cellphone and dialed the police department.

"Sky Peak Police Department."

"Hello, I'd like to report a break in."

Please tell me they can find who took my stuff!

---

"At least they left me my kiln," I joked with a sigh.

The police had taken about an hour to arrive. I wasn't about to judge until I knew more, but I was going to see about getting a police scanner soon.

"Yeah." Detective Van Pelt was a grizzled, older man. His eyes had bags beneath them and his clothes almost seemed like he pulled them on as he was walking out the door. "So, what was the point of making so many swords?"

We were standing in the middle of the warehouse. Police officers were examining the scene of the crime. Some officers picked up some tongs I made out of rebar, then tossed it back on the workbench with a light scoff.

"Practice," I replied, giving those officers the side-eye. "I've been interested in blacksmithing for a long time and I've started the hobby not too long ago."

"Uh huh," the Detective took some notes on his notepad, not even caring to notice his officers disrespect. "So, why make so many? Were you going to sell them?"

"The idea had crossed my mind," I said, shrugging. I mean, I had spent a lot of money on materials, might as well get some back, right? You know, if I wasn't going to melt them down. Not that I had an option, anymore. "I was going to use the rest of my supplies first. Just a hobbyist."

"And you came to Sky Peak recently, correct?" His tired eyes stared into mine with an odd intensity.

"Yeah, I did," I replied, shifting slightly on my feet.

"Where did you say you came from?" He asked.

"Metropolis, Detective."

"Is there a reason you came to Sky Peak to practice your hobby?" Detective Van Pelt asked, eyes narrowing, never moving his gaze as if he were trying to stare a hole in the center of my face.

"To get away from family," I replied, the corners of my mouth twisting to a frown.

"Gotcha. Well, kid," he said, flipping his notebook closed. "We'll do what we can, but realistically, those swords are long gone."

I let out a sigh. "Alright. Well, thanks for trying, Detective."

He turned on his wheel to walk away. "And take my advice? Head back to Metropolis. This place is a rotting corpse with nothing but the airport paying its life support."

I sat down on a bench that I had made and let the Police work. The Detective's words seemed to bounce between my ears and made my frown much worse. I mean, I knew this city was in shambles, but even Law Enforcement was saying to abandon ship, and they know things no one else does. Don't they?

Eventually, they were satisfied they could find nothing else in my workshop and left, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I let out a breath and stood back up

Well, as much as I'd like too, I couldn't make my own door knobs. Not yet. First thing to do is head to the nearest home improvement store and buy a new door. Then, get a security system installed. Not sure why I thought the guy I was renting this place from had it taken care of already, but I paid for my carelessness today.

Unacceptably sloppy of me.

But I'm going to call the landlord and let him get this straightened out. Well, actually, no. I don't want to sit on my hands and wait for him to fix things. Could be weeks. I'm sure he won't mind if I replaced it myself and paid for a more advanced security system.

Because this cannot happen again.

Once those essential things are taken care of, I'm making new tools. A blacksmith is only as good as his tools and the ones I made when I was first starting out are practically garbage compared to what I can do now.

With that, I got back to work.

---Two Months Later---

Before you ask, no. I never saw my swords again. They are just gone. Thankfully, however, the front door was much sturdier and the security system I put in place managed to scare off another robbery attempt.

According to the new security cameras, it was a pair of Rocket Borders. Chasing them down is going to be a lot of fun for more than a few reasons, let me tell you. I had a strong urge to melt the swords they stole from me down into murder soup and force feed it to them. Wasn't going too, but I wanted too.

The thieves were only interested in finished products, so I still had enough scrap metal and rebar to make new tools and then I melted down my old ones to turn into better tools. After which, I got started on my plans a bit early. I was on the clock and it was going to take longer than I wanted.

I needed help. A lot of help. Luckily, that was a simple problem to solve.

First thing I did was head off to an electronics store and purchased computer supplies. Then, I forged and manufactured my first powered tool. A power hammer, something to rapidly and quickly hammer metal quickly into shape.

With that done, I built my first robot.

Nothing for it, I was going to need help to get the things I wanted done, done. The robot looked like a four-legged crab with a pair of free moving arms built on top. From the side, it's profile was that of an arch. The free moving arms featured a grabber, the other a welding torch. It's job was to get into angles that I couldn't and weld things I needed welded.

From there, I started making drones. Aerial things designed to float on miniature helicopter blades. Not something seen in this universe yet but they were all over the place in my old world. Their only job was to pick things up and move them. That's it.

As I got more confident, I made another welding bot and made upgrades to the first one I made. Then another. With all this automated help, I was able to finally build a 3D Printer, another bit of technology that hadn't been seen yet here, but was available in my previous world. Then I made another one, this one larger and capable of working metal.

Couldn't help but geek out about how I was capable of bringing futuristic technology to a comic book world. The future is now, Superman!

Things really got moving when I started building the assembly lines. Six welders, dozens of drones all put those things together like lightning. My warehouse went from a hobbyist's den to a factory. It was really cool, watching this robotic symphony of materials being moved, shaped and then moved again, like an artificial ecosystem. What were we building?

I call it the Automatic Bunker Constructor, or the ABC. What it would do is tunnel underneath the warehouse and, with the help of the rest of the robots, build a vast, underground bunker where I could really get into the Superhero mindset. It would be my fortress, my hideout, my batcave. The place where I would put my plans into motion, investigate crimes, repair and maintain my equipment, my sanctuary. I set the ABC to run overnight and I'd get a message on my phone when it was done or if it ran into problems.

With all of that done, here's my current tally for my Smithing skill.

Quest Completed: Master Craftsman.
Attain 75 ranks in Smithing: (75/75)

Quest Added: God of the Forge.
Attain 100 ranks in Smithing: (90/100).

The final ten ranks of any skill could, but not always, take years. That's why I cheated and waited until I hit the final ten ranks to start reading skill books and, in the modern day, watch instructional videos.

So, I was on my way back to my apartment to watch the celebratory five or so hours of videos dedicated to teaching people how to blacksmith. I parked in my reserved parking spot, got out, walked in the diner.

"Hey." I greeted George and Patty with a wave.

"Hey, sport!" George beamed at me. "How're things at the forge?"

"Oh, fantastic," I told him with a grin. "Finally finished that big project I've been working on."

"How wonderful," Patty said. "You're home kind of early, though, aren't you dear?"

"Wanted to celebrate." I sat down at the bar, rapidly slapping the counter with my hands. "Would you guys get me t-bone steak with a side of mashed potatoes and a nice tall glass of root beer?"

"Coming right up!" George said, disappearing into the kitchen behind him.

The stat bonus attached to a t-bone steak was 10% extra hit points. It...really wasn't noticeable. I barely got involved in combat anymore and even when I did, tanking an explosion back at the airport didn't even clear 10% of my health bar, and I wasn't wearing any armor.

It was very rare that I ate anything for no reason but the taste, but this was a celebration! The ABC was working and I was getting my hideout! Now that I think about it, I was going to need to set up some kind of cover operation in the warehouse to explain why I keep going in and out.

...probably a sword-making operation. Ha!

Dinner was great. Made small talk with George and Patty, ate a delicious steak and the mashed potatoes that came with it and then I was back in my apartment.

My apartment...was really bare. Once you came in, there was a coat closet directly on the left. Past that wall was the kitchen, which was divided from the great room by a wall with a window for a bar cut through the center right above the sink.

In the great room was only one thing, my desk and desktop computer, set up against the wall next to the glass door out to the balcony. With a fold-up chair.

I kept meaning to stock my apartments with furniture. I did. But I just got busy at the warehouse and honestly slept over there a couple of times so this place was a little neglected. At least it was clean. Honestly, I couldn't wait until the bunker was finished, so I could start making my apartment presentable and then keep all my secret passions and endeavors down in the bunker where no one will ever find them.

Sat down at the desk, booted up my browser, did a search and...came across a thumbnail of someone making a medieval torture device. Specifically, a thumb screw, where ones thumbs were placed in an upside down arch and then had a plate screwed down on top of them, very tightly.

Why not, that sounds fascinating! Morbid, but fascinating!

I clicked on a video and immediately came face to face with a woman. She had black hair, cut short to about chin level. She had beautiful tattoos on her arms and neck and a nose-ring. But what immediately stood out to me was the thick, leather collar on her neck, a padlock dangling from it.

...this girl was a collared submissive.

Huh.

I leaned in closer.

"Hey there! GothGirlForges here to teach you how we make the medieval thumbscrew," She said, smiling like a perky cheer captain directing her squad mates. "It's actually really easy to make. We'll show you how to make it, then at the end of the video we'll test it out."

"That's your favorite part of the video, isn't it?" Asked a male voice from behind the camera, likely the cameraman.

"Yeah," she said. Then she laughed.

The video ran for about twenty minutes. There was a lot of instructional material, but the other half of the video was just her and the camera man flirting and being adorable together. Presumably, the cameraman was her dominant, the way they were talking with each other.

Eventually, after finishing the device, the camera cut to an angle placed down on the table. The thumb screw was in front of it. It was stapled to the table.

"Okay," GothGirlForges was leaning forward on the table, providing a great view of her cleavage behind the thumbscrew. "So as you can see, it was really easy to make. With the right tools and a bit of practice, you can make one of your own! Now, for the moment we've all been waiting for, it's time to test it."

She stretched out her arms and placed her thumbs in the grooves meant for them.

"Are you ready?" the camera man asked, putting his decidedly thicker fingers on the screw itself.

She got a hesitant look on her face. "...go ahead."

He started screwing, forcing the lever down until it was pressing against her thumbs, then just a little further. "Ow, ow, ow!" She was laughing. "Oh, that hurts! Yeah, this works! You don't have to go any further."

"Okay," he said, before screwing down even harder.

"Ow!" She was laughing even harder. "You are so mean!"

"Only because I care," he said, clearly enjoying himself.

"Okay, well," she was laughing. "Ow." The camera picked up and moved to get a better angle to see GothGirlForges splayed over across the table, held there by her thumbs in the screw, her feminine curves on full display in her tight shirt and jeans. "If you enjoyed this video, please make sure to like, comment and subscribe!"

Your Smithing skill has increased to 91!

The video ended there. I presume the camera man started a discipline scene after all that, because, well, his sub was there, helpless, uncomfortable and bent over a table. That was practically begging for a spanking, wasn't it?

...that was the kind of relationship that I wanted. Which is why I never really clicked with any of the girls back in Metropolis. The were far too normal. Infuriatingly so. I wanted a girl who wanted me to tie her up and do unspeakably filthy things to her while she was powerless to stop me.

I wanted to be a dom and I wanted a sub.

Well, not a sub. I wanted a lot of subs. I wanted a harem of devoted sex slaves that I could use and punish at will.

What guy doesn't? Aside from the 'punish' part, that's pretty niche.

The issue is that I refuse to have sex prior to marriage and having multiple spouses was so illegal and taboo, that the US government would trample over as many civil rights as it needed to in order to stop it. They declare 'freedom of religion' and then when that religion says to take multiple wives, they say, "No, not like that!".

Islamic immigrants sometimes claim their extra wives are their sisters just to get through customs. Utah was marched upon by the US army. Multiple spouses, especially multiple wives, is a huge no-no for daddy government.

So why get married? Well, sleeping with a girl can be a lot like planting a flag on her and declaring her yours. I refuse to claim a girl without also taking responsibility for her welfare. If she can handle herself, great! But I don't want her to have to take care of herself if she doesn't want to.

Which is the real rub of the modern day; sleep around as much as you like, but the second you want to actually take care of the girls you're sleeping with, that's a huge problem.

Then, you add the whole BDSM thing and I'm just concerned that I'm secretly a horrible person whose only way to satisfy his fetish's is by scooping up girls who've been ground to so much dust by life that they'd take anything just to avoid being alone.

I don't want to do that. I'd rather be alone myself than take advantage of people.

Some times, I've thought about going to events for this sort of things. Gatherings. They exist and there's people that do this sort of thing. Women looking for doms, men looking for subs and of course, women looking for subs and men looking for doms. Because the kink scene is equal opportunity and that's a point in its favor.

I could find someone there, but I'm celibate until marriage. Even if that little fact didn't get me laughed out of the building by literally everyone at this hypothetical sex party, I would be so extremely uncomfortable that I don't think I'd get any meetings and greetings done while I was there.

Basically, I was in a catch twenty-two. Caught between my morals and my discomfort. And I did try giving regular relationships a try. Ones where that incredibly sexy power dynamic wasn't in play. I really did.

But I really want that dynamic and I want it with someone who truly wants to be in that dynamic.

No kink is better than bad kink.

---

Author's Note: I'm hoping that the inclusion of kinkier elements doesn't detract from everyone's enjoyment. The last time I tried to discuss the topic in one of my works, there was some controversy that I wasn't comfortable with, so I'm hoping this dive into Jacob's psyche works better here in this fic than it did in some of my previous work.

Do let me know what you think in the comments down below.

Until the next time!

~Fulcon
 

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