-One Day, After Numerous Efforts-
“...yeah, that’s about it. I suppose we could go find some expert Hemel, or maybe Miss Cosineau, to be absolutely sure, but I’m going by my own analysis, and it’s got its own merit. You can’t tap the Stream, girls.”
The Stream, a dimension of malleable and seemingly infinite energy that powered everyone in Weav, at least in terms of their superhuman efforts…and also was, or had been, accessed by the Foundry on the Kobber ‘planes’ to make their metahumans, and technically by the Einherjar, as they had been empowered by that method of access purely by accident. Kaydence, taught by Julia, could do it a bit, but she disliked doing so, feeling like it was akin to her snorting water up her nose to drink, and Isabelle, having fought Julia so often, had reverse-engineered the process…once. Oh, and the Space Pirates had come up with a messy, half-baked, and unstable as heck way to tap it, after Ash had given out some information he assumed would never leave the room he was in, and even if it had, that the process would be abandoned because it was immediately lethal, not understanding that the Space Pirates were quite willing to kill hundreds and hundreds of their number until they figured out a way that it was LESS lethal.
But it seemed that Vimmy and Venny would not be joining any of those clubs.
“As far as I can guess…it’s your bodies. It’s like trying to conduct electricity through wood. There’s too much artificial material in your makeup.” Celeste said. It seemed a bit arbitrary: after all, Christopher had numerous cybernetic parts and HE could tap the Stream, at incredibly high degrees at that. But upon discovering that the girls seemingly could not, they’d done some studies, and discovered that the man had basically been working around a minor handicap the whole time. He could channel the Stream entirely through his organic arm, but with his mechanical one, it technically stopped at the shoulder area and then emerged to get shaped AROUND the machine arm. Not much of a difference, but it existed. And it was far more prevalent in the much-more altered dragon girls. Christopher was still around 75 percent flesh and blood; with the girls it was more like 25 percent.
Sitting on the ground and worn out, Vimmy and Venny had halfheartedly nodded before looking at each other. As with everything they’d done their best and tried their hardest, but even then they hadn’t been able to get to so much as the first step of the process.
“...That does make sense.” Venny said, before she sighed, a little disappointed. “We’re altered pretty heavily from a baseline human, and there’s a lot of hard tech in us from top to bottom. I sort of suspected since we’ve had a couple of times of not being affected by some of the things in this world.”
“Well… I guess we can’t have everything. I was sort of looking forward to it, but it’s just not going to happen.” Vimmy said to them both. She’d folded her hands. “Besides, we’ve got plenty of other things going for us. Even if we can’t tap the stream, I think it’d be a little like looking a gift horse in the mouth.”
“Yeah… Yeah, that’s true. There’s just too many blocks in our bodies for the energy to even travel, I’d guess.” Venny admitted, scratching behind her horns.
“...then again, their innards are still mostly organic…” Celeste said, partly to herself, partly to her husband.
“...technically yes, but…ho boy. Okay.” Christopher took his chin, thinking. “Girls, you know what hysterical strength is, right?”
“Might not, by that term.” Celeste said.
“Women lifting incredibly heavy things that strong men couldn’t lift because their children are trapped and in danger under them. THAT’S hysterical strength.”
“Oh, yeah! There’s all these stories back on earth about, like, women lifting cars because their kids are underneath them, or in some of them it’s four wheelers, things like that. I don’t know of any examples, but that’s the general sort of theme.” Venny nodded. “Something about adrenaline and emotion overriding their normal levels. I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of urban legends about those circumstances, but I think it’s happened at least once or twice for real.”
“I’d guess so, otherwise there wouldn’t be those stories in the first place.” Vimmy pointed out.
“Hysterical strength doesn’t work unless you have situations like that for a reason. It’s your body protecting itself. You need to really get into a certain irrational headspace, so to speak, to override it. People who have gotten that desperate, maybe they succeed in what they had to do, but there’s a cost. Muscles get torn off bones, joints get permanently cocked, and so on. Now, I’m sure plenty thought, worth it as a cost. And not as bad if you have a healing factor, or some super-normal healing ability from somewhere else, like my sister, or the high cleric types in Embrace…but you’re a tricky mix of what was changed and what still is, and all things considered…
“All right. You still have some parts of your selves from before the alterations. What we were teaching is to channel the Stream safely. In THEORY, since you still have some natural flesh inside you, and you grasp the concept, you just literally can’t perform the execution in any way…or any SAFE way…but…
“...it’s POSSIBLE you might be able to tap it. In a hysterical strength sense. But the consequences would be dire. You’d probably run a strong risk of frying yourself like an egg on a griddle. Damage so bad that even the Kobbers could have trouble repairing it. Or repairing it fully. But…well, if things have gotten as bad as they can possibly get, and your only options are that or no option at all…
“...it’s possible. Please don’t make me repeat just how dangerous this option is to you. I think it’s better that you know you have it instead of not, but…please make sure it’s at the very bottom of the list of choices. No joke. Hell, I would honestly want Dawn to put in some mental blocks to be on the safe side, but that’s a violation, so I won’t ask you or her to do that. Just…look into my eyes, girl. This would be the absolute, utter last resort. The kind of desperation no one deserves to feel. ONLY THEN. NEVER. ANY. OTHER. TIME.”
Perhaps what really drove it home was the man’s tone. Celeste, their mother, was naturally warmer, more connected, while Christopher was a bit more distant, hands off; he was even that way a bit with his own flesh and blood daughters. But the way he was speaking was exactly how Celeste would have if she’d been giving the warning. Whatever else, he cared enough that he wanted them to know how very badly he never wanted them to ever have to use such a technique.
“...Understood.” Venny nodded seriously, before swallowing from his stare. More than just knowing the reality of what would happen if they tried it flippantly, or in a pure broken situation, Christopher emphasizing what it would mean was enough for her to accept what it was. Even for a dragon there were things better left off the table. “Hopefully, there won’t ever be a time it’ll factor in.”
“Hopefully… But I can’t imagine something staying standing after we hit it with everything else we’ve got.” Vimmy said, likewise swallowing.
“Yeah, and that’s the point. Even then, there’s a limit and a line. We’ll keep that in mind, we promise.” Venny swore, before looking over to Vimmy, who put her hand up immediately like she was taking an oath.
“...that’s all I can ask. All right then. Normal Stream use, it can’t be done with you. We’ll work around it. Still a list of options to make you be all that you can be.” Christopher said.
Though when the two girls had begun focusing on the next task they were given, the married couple shared a long look, that seemed to be part of an unspoken conversation. Not in a bad way, though.
Just…that list of options.
—
-Another time, after other medical assessments, away from home-
“...while we’re here in Oriam…girls, there is some other product I could investigate. For you and I. However, if you come with me, you’ll have to be blindfolded and deafened. The people involved are very, VERY paranoid and since they don’t know you beyond my word, which I’d be giving for the first time they won’t let me bring you any other way. Now I could just tell you to wait here, but this might also be to your interest. So, interested enough to accept that sort of caution?”
Perking up, Vimmy and Venny had raised their eyebrows. “Well, definitely! If that’s the lead up to it, it’s probably worth seeing. Right?” Venny asked Vimmy, who nodded curiously.
“Just, please don’t let me trip and fall on the way.” She added hastily.
“That is actually something I might have to consider. All right, follow me.”
The trio ended up spending nearly an hour wandering around, or so it seemed. Christopher was looking for some sort of markings only he recognized, and then when he found them, there was another trip (they were apparently some sort of coded directions) that ended in a small unit that seemed to be storing paint. Only the fact that the security guard was GIGANTIC, nearly the size of Zalafren Sigmund, though he was more naturally shaped, indicated otherwise. Christopher showed him something the girls didn’t see, and he waved them to a door at the back.
“Now, when I knock, we’ll be asked for a password. Say nothing and don’t move. Stare straight ahead. Doing that for five minutes IS the password. I don’t know who thought it up, but that’s their rules.”
Christopher hammered on the door. Ten seconds later, the slot on it opened.
“Password.”
Christopher just did what he’d said to do. The girls followed, having to make sure their tails didn’t move at all as they tended to when they were mildly anxious. Unable to look at any clocks, time seemed to lose all meaning, Venny wondered if they could have done this on their own, even with the appropriate information. Just standing there, like a statue…it reeked of being manipulated, or set up. Considering what their teacher had said, these people probably didn’t deal much in trust. And combine it with that…
There was the sound of multiple locks being undone, and the door opened into pitch blackness. Well, a watched pot did technically boil, whatever the saying said.
“Okay ladies. No alternate vision types, please. I’ll let you in and bind up your eyes and ears myself, then take your hands and take you along.”
The two girls swiftly discovered that standing still for five minutes was much more preferable than having one’s eyes and ears shut down: their sight was completely gone, and the earbuds so muffled sound that the only thing the girls could hear was if Christopher spoke loudly to them while next to them. It spoiled a bit of the niceness of him actually taking them by the hands when he was done and guiding them along, like a father walking with his daughters. But, he’d said those were the rules.
An almost ratlike run of paranoia threading through her brain, even knowing the particulars of the situation, Venny had needed to bite her tongue and trust in Christopher while she’d been blinded and deafened. It was uncomfortable for her, but she’d done as he’d asked, purposefully not trying to peek or cheat with any subsystems or differing modes of vision. Even though she didn’t know if it would have been detected or not, she meant to keep her word on the matter. Still, she kept her head up and obediently followed along, the curiosity of where they were going just about burning.
Likewise, Vimmy hadn’t enjoyed it when silent darkness descended on her from the earbuds and eyes being bound, but after taking Christopher’s hand her misgivings had pretty much immediately subsided. She’d liked that he was leading them somewhere to their interests, and if she had to jump through a few hoops first, that was fine. Almost nothing in life was free, you took the good with the bad. She thought she could feel where Venny was next to her, or maybe she was just imagining that, but it came to the same thing ultimately.
Both in their own worlds of themselves without any other input, their thoughts felt very loud; It wasn’t until Christopher would turn them to a different direction or stop for a moment that the rest of them would catch up again. They didn’t mind being led if he was doing the leading, but in their own ways they were both doubling and tripling down on what awaited them after it was said and done. Venny had almost tripped the once, but after she was stabilized she hadn’t again, just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and reaching their goal. Even cut off from the world by being blind and deaf, it felt like it lasted much longer than it really did, but neither one made an attempt to remove the earbuds or the wrappings of their eyes. In this matter as with all matters, Christopher had asked it of them and they weren’t going to shirk what he’d said or try to cheat. Until then, they’d just put up with it as gamely as they could, neither talking since they’d have only heard themselves in the first place.
Finally, they stopped. The girls could make out some muffled noise, Christopher speaking something. And despite their muffled hearing, they could only not hear, but SENSE the vastness of the door that swung open before them, Christopher leading them through, the girls sensing it even more when it closed behind them. At that point, they got the signal that they could remove their blinders and ‘deafeners’, which they did with considerable relief and speed.
The first thing that struck them was the lighting. It was intense, and yet muted at the same time. Not the harsh glare of a spotlight, but a light that lit up all the nooks and crannies of the room, allowing nowhere to hide. Beyond that, the room was…
Full of boots and shoes. Neatly organized, not quite in a sales-like matter, but well enough that they could be perused. There were three people, one human, two Hemel, at the end of the room, all aiming guns at them.
“Ignore them. They basically keep beads on everyone who comes in. They’ve got good trigger discipline. And there’s also the fact that if they DO decide to shoot, they won’t be able to kill us before we kill them.” The last sentence was said personally and quietly to the girls. As Christopher spoke, the door that the men were guarding opened.
While the ‘front man’ had been gigantic in a big, muscled sense, the man who came out was giant in a more rotund sense, dressed in pants and a shirt that seemed to be made of some kind of chainmail, or more like some weird chainmail/cloth hybrid, as it didn’t move like something solely made of overlapping scales of metal. He had a beard that had clearly been growing for a few years, perhaps to compensate for his thinning hair on his head, and wore very thick glasses that turned his eyes into smudges of brown.
“Damien.”
“Otiswell.” Christopher said.
“You know full well your social credit is exceeded bringing two unknowns down here.”
“And I think you know well just how deep my ‘social credit’ goes, considering how long and well you’ve had this operation in motion.”
Otiswell sighed like an annoyed grandparent, before he turned and headed back inside.
“My middle name. One of them. Part of the code, his first name is not Otiswell. I doubt you’ll learn his actual first name any time soon. Just call him Mr. Otiswell, he’ll respond to that if you have to speak to him. Come with me.”
The three guards kept their eyes and weapons firmly on the three at they headed through the armored door Otiswell had gone through. The next room was a bit more comfortable, a sort of waiting room/semi-lounge. There were two other people there, both women, but while they noted the unusual forms of Christopher and ESPECIALLY the dragon girls, they swiftly swallowed their interest in the unusual sights and returned to the books they were looking over.
“This is the Aazar.” Christopher said. “Oriam has the most consistent advanced ‘tech’ and machinery on this planet, out of an isolated Hemel lab or two, but there ARE other places that make items in that vein. Tech-esque items, instead of magic and smithing and other more old-school craftwork professions. It’s prohibitively expensive, and a lot of it is considered illegal and will get you sentenced to prison if you’re caught with it in the wrong places, and there’s a fair number of wrong places. If you want ‘the best toys’ in Oriam, you need ridiculous connections, and it’s often slow as hell unless it’s a crisis situation. So, the Aazar provides another option. And as long as they follow certain rules, I don’t raise issues with it. And so, they also sell to me. And you, perhaps. Follow me. We’re going to Riggings first. You should probably pull in your wings and tails again, some of these hallways can be very narrow.”
The three took a side passageway, walking past a few doors that wouldn’t be out of place in a traditional office building from back home. One door opened as the three walked past, an older looking man glancing out, seeing the three, and swiftly closing his door again.
“We’re not who he was expecting. Not everyone here is very social.”
When they finally arrived at ‘Riggings’, the girls finally found out that not every room was as nice and neat as the first ones. All around were piles of materials: metal interweaves, plastic–looking lengths hung on racks like drying towels, buckets full of clasps, buckles, and shoelaces, and all sorts of other semi-organized ‘piles and collections’. One part of the room was cleared off, however, save for full length mirrors and what appeared to be classic ‘attire dummies’, headless and armless model torsos you could put clothing on.
Vimmy, when the head of the department stepped out from behind her desk, thought it was a mistake. She looked no older than fifteen, at most.
Then she got a closer look, and saw the signs of greater age. Slightly worn lines on her face, the form of a mature woman, just alarmingly…shrunken, like she’d literally gone into some kind of ‘reality dryer’ and come out smaller than she should have.
“Esther.”
“Damien.”
“Where’s Social Call?”
“Elsewhere. I’m overseeing things.”
“Esther, Vimmy, Venny. My two newest wards, so to speak. Vimmy, Venny, Esther, just Esther for now. Esther is a metallurgist and armorer, she does excellent fine work. She’s whom I’m here to see, so feel free to look around her ‘shop’. All this is based around armor, all sorts, all parts of the body.”
“Because unlike Cheaters, we don’t run the risk of burning out or getting jammed up by whoever’s made the latest Switcharoo.”
“...she means Intricacies. Some people feel they cheat as being armor. That proper armor requires more design than just putting a ‘magic gem’ in a few ‘slots’ and turning them on. Plus, like she said. They can be affected by outside means. Switcharoos is one of them. I’ve always believed there’s merit in both opinions.”
“But you can only get real good work done here. Girls, if you knock anything over, you’d best restack it. Watch those tails. So. What your memo discussed, Damien?”
“Longcoat, yes.”
“Length?”
“Three feet, four inches.”
“Build?”
“Muscled slight. Female.”
“Layout?”
“Elaborate.”
“Protection Alarming, Overt, or Subtle?”
“...Subtle.”
The girls knew this product wasn’t for them. Based on what they could puzzle out, it was probably for Patty. Something to replace her shorter hooded jacket?
A lot of the pair’s boisterous, confident nature had been subdued on the path here, and after they’d both curtsied politely to Esther at their introduction they’d drifted apart while she and Christopher talked. Venny’s tail was longer and stronger, so while she kept it firmly behind her Vimmy focussed more on her wingblades staying against her back like a metal cloak. They weren’t going to blow in like a couple of bumpkins and knock things over and around if they could help it…
In some ways the Aazar was a little familiar to them from their experience with similar places, but at the same time it dwarfed those as a matter of course. Hideaways and safehouses were one thing, but the scale of it all put those right to shame. It had certainly piqued their interest, and they’d both made their way around the Riggings room to investigate further. They didn’t need much in the way of armor, what with subdermal implants and the capability to generate shielding, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still able to appreciate it. Arguably, being partly made of steel themselves just added to the whole picture.
Vimmy had stared at the metal interweaves curiously, not picking any up because she knew well enough to look with her eyes and not her hands, but still taking a few seconds to realize what they were and what they were for. They looked light but strong, obviously worth the difficulty it’d be to get here and acquire them… Briefly her thoughts turned to her friend Hannah, who’d made her own armor not so very long ago. The difference in her finished product and all the pieces and bits in collections laying around were pretty obvious, but it gave her a basis for comparison.
Likewise on her best behaviour, Venny had wandered over to some of the mirrors and dummies, raising her eyebrows at her own reflection and wondering briefly how people on Weav actually saw them. They’d had plenty of reactions to go on from their long trip back to home, but it struck her that maybe the two were a rarer sight than she’d actually realized… There couldn’t have been that many metal dragon girls running around, after all. Eyeing her own bodysuit and the layers of material over most of her vitals to go with her capelet, she had to admit she saw the appeal of things like chainmail or plating. It must have taken years for Esther to not only get to her place here but to be good enough with metallurgy to earn it, and she glanced over her shoulder at her and Christopher as they talked.
If it was for Patty, she’d probably like what she’d be getting… Venny briefly smiled a little as she went back to examining things, putting her hands on her hips.
Vimmy eyed a helmet while she put a hand to her curling horns, taken by wondering how things would have shook out for the pair if they’d been born here instead of Earth. There was no chance they’d have followed the same destiny, but it was interesting to her that things had sort of split off this way… Instead of horns she’d probably be looking for something just like the piece of armor in front of her for her head. If she’d have been able to afford it, or been a fighting sort to begin with.
…If Intricacies counted as cheating, what about all their upgrades? She briefly considered this and then shook her head, realizing it was a little late for that. Still, she was taken by all the metal and doodads around, wondering how they differed from the earth metals she was used to in form and in function. Maybe one day she’d find out, but for now she was content to window shop.
“Fire in the hole, girls!”
Two seconds later, booming explosions ripped through the room. Gunshots tended to not be as loud as they were presented in fiction, but whether due to the room’s acoustics or the type of firearm, that didn’t seem to apply here, Esther firing what appeared to be a handgun into a long coat that had been hung on one of the dummies.
“...That was a little TOO fast, Esther.” Christopher said, ie, I barely got a chance to warn them of the noise before you made it.
“Write a complaint card.” Esther walked over to the dummy, removing the long dark blue, leathery coat, fishing inside it and removing a pitch black piece of material, several bullets flattened against it. “A new mixture for the contraction material. Reinforced by interlaced paper metals, cooked just right, you can sew it right into the lining. Stops anything basic cold. Even some advanced strikes with some luck. The downside; no negation of substantial impact. Quite painful, especially if they catch your broadsides.”
Christopher took the material piece from her hands, looking it over, extracting one of the flattened bullets and looking at it as well.
“...I’ll take it.”
“Rush job?”
“No. Take your time. I want the most complete interweave possible.” After a few more sentences of negotiation and another given box of what the girls assumed was Terrae or sufficient payment, the two girls left the Riggings ‘department’.
“In case you were wondering, yes, she’s an adult. She got caught up in a Waste-based toxin that didn’t kill her like some, but it altered her body. Completely negated any more growth she’d normally do. She’s in her 40’s, but if she wants to, she can throw on some makeup to hide the age and pass for a child. Whether she does that for any reason, I don’t know. I just know she did it at least twice.” Christopher said. “Also, I was considering asking one of you to test the jacket, but I figured asking you to literally get shot for me was a bridge too far, no matter how obligated you might feel. I know you don’t register pain quite like us, but she did say it was very painful. I guess I’ll test it on myself once I get it home in a few weeks.”
A little jumpy still- she hadn’t expected the field test, although maybe she should have- Vimmy had nodded. “Well, neither of us was going to ask- but we were wondering about that. I figured her genetics were just that way, or something.” She’d admitted with a shrug. Poking around about people’s appearances was a great way to get under their skin quick without meaning to, she knew that much. “It really seems like she knew her stuff…”
“I’ll say. Kevlar doesn’t do that to bullets, and it’s the closest thing I can think of, what was in that coat, I mean.” Venny chipped in. Privately she was glad he hadn’t asked for them to stand in as test dummies, even though she also knew they would have without question. “I don’t think there’s really any way to get shot and just shake it off like water on a duck’s back, but the nearer you can get to that the better.”
“Was that a gift for Patty? Er- I’ll, I mean, we’ll keep our mouths shut about it, if it was.” Vimmy said, blushing a little since she’d realized too late she was being nosy.
“It is, yes. Keep it secret.” Christopher said in a “I know I don’t have to ask this sort of thing, but I never leave any variables if I can prevent it’. “But the Repertory…that’s more open for what we might acquire.”
The Repertory, as it turned out, was considerably neater than the Riggings, mainly because you really couldn’t put guns on tables or in boxes as well as clothing/armor materials. The two girls immediately got Matrix flashbacks: the large room wasn’t QUITE as big as the racks of the ‘guns, lots of guns’ scene, but it made up for it by having more exotic and interesting looking options. One small subset of guns looked like a clamshell that opened to reveal a barrel, the exact method of holding and firing the weapon unclear to the girls. Another gun seemed to be made of varnished wood, and considering there was only one of them with ammo boxes around it, it suggested it was a highly specialized weapon. Others looked much like guns they’d seen back home, black and grey compact metal handguns and larger rifles. Others sort of looked that way but had more interesting colors, greens and whites and blues and purples. A centerpiece item appeared at first glance to be some kind of small, compact suitcase, not the rectangle shaped ones but more like a shape of a gumdrop; obviously, it probably had some secret, but the girls didn’t know it.
Esther had been dressed like a casual work person, much like Chalice had been. The guy who seemed to be the overseer of the Repository…was dressed like a circus ringmaster.
Well, not quite. He didn’t have a large top hat, but his suit swung more towards out of the ordinary than business casual, featuring a prominent ruffle, a jacket with tails, and riding boots instead of shoes. He also had a ridiculously large mustache; the girls swore it extended a foot from either side of his face. Despite his appearance, he seemed pretty serious and professional, though when he saw who had entered, his eyes had lit up a bit.
“Christopher.” No use of a middle name here; he was apparently on a first name basis.
“Wishbone.” Christopher nodded back. Either ‘Wishbone’ preferred a handle, or his parents had been odd ducks.
“It has been some time.”
“The downside of good product.”
“How true, true.” Wishbone said. “And who might these be?”
“This is Vimmy and Venny Castle. New…students of mine. Vimmy, Venny, this is Wishbone. You’re new, so called him Mr. Wishbone, or just mister. His actual name is only shared with long time acquaintances. Wishbone is a former armory master for several Hemel bases, and is probably one of the most knowledgeable people on this world about TANGLE based combat. That is, guns.”
“They are something of an acquired taste. Many prefer the ease of a sword that just needs to be sharpened and an arm that needs to be muscled.” Wishbone said. The two girls did have a LITTLE knowledge of Weav firearms and the Weav ‘T.A.N.G.L.E’ system, which had been developed by the Hemel in ‘generations past’. As their story supposedly went, much like how certain Asian cultures had their biology affected by lack of access to certain food groups until the world fully opened up, the Hemel had spent a long long while completely isolated from Weav society, and between that and the unique nature of the ground they lived on, had ended up with their own biological quirks, namely, they tended towards being frail. Which meant they much preferred to engage in combat at range: bows, slings, guns, catapults, and so on. While rejoining the wider world had lessened this supposed universal frailness, old habits died hard. The T.A.N.G.L.E system, as it had been dubbed in a more universal sense (the Hemel called it something else in their language), stood for Target Acquisition (and) Neutralization: Gage, Loose, Eliminate, and was essentially a combat system that merged traditional firearms training, Stream enhancement, and fancier aspects that had shown up in other realms with names like ‘gun-kata’.
“They really don’t know anything about the product here, so I thought I would ask in general.”
“High quality basic first, then?”
“Yes.”
Wishbone went over to a cupboard that was locked, opening it and extracting a large crate that he moved over to the ‘counter’ he was standing behind.
“I know your family’s preference for the White Lightning range of firearms, you are close to Oriam’s people and it’s what you know best. However, I can fully recommend the newest range of the Mad Bull series. P&L MB-34.”
“Mad Bull line’s a bit heavy and prone to gimmicks. They’ve improved?”
“The weight is still a tad non-optimal, but the recoil has been reduced even further.” Christopher took one of the handguns out of the case, holding it up, sighting it, checking how the slide worked and how sensitive the hammer and trigger were. “The reason I recommend it is that its wide range of ammo adoption has more than doubled. The weapon can accept up to 19 different forms of ammo, whether they be singular or in packets. Parting and Lance have also recently developed two new forms of gimmick ammunition, it only works for this weapon, but they are more versatile and less situation specific than some of the past.”
“All right, what are they?”
“Type one is called Grain. Think of it as micro shots. If used poorly, you might as well be spitting seeds at an enemy, but if you can hold your target, you can send several hundred shots to one place that serve up a combined effort that more traditional shots are negated by. Type two is called Passage. The downside is that they come in units of one. You will need to reload after each shot. In exchange, the Passage uses a multi-layered detonation system to fire a shot that has been tested as being capable of going through a Four-Out. Lengthwise. Through the skull.”
Christopher arched an eyebrow at that.
“Assuming that’s accurate, such a projectile could easily blow a hole through either of you half the size of your chest. Four-Out’s skulls are no joke when it comes to natural armor. Well girls, you heard the assessment. Give it a feel, if you wish.”
It was an effective mark of the changes they’d been through that after they’d been introduced Vimmy and Venny had politely gathered closer rather than holding themselves apart and being standoffish; At some point that tendency had faded from them to instead try and make a good first impression when they met new people instead, openly. While they knew enough about guns to be comfortable around them, that had been an extremely shallow understanding compared to their surroundings now. Watching the gun being taken out of the case, Venny had politely nodded along while Vimmy had kept her eyes on it.
“Oh, thank you.” Venny had said, taking the handgun and cradling it to examine it closer. Even though its look didn’t have much to do with its function she did like it, the white of its plating and the firing mechanism itself interesting her… It was certainly a step up from the pistols and revolvers she’d recalled. A lot of things couldn’t hold a candle to her gravity blasts, but she suspected the compact power of the gun could certainly come close. Maybe awfully close, if it really could potentially make holes that were almost a fourth of her size in targets.
“19 types of ammo, huh?” Vimmy asked from her shoulder, Venny passing the gun over to her to look over at her own pace. She treated it much the same in her hand, keeping her fingers well away from the trigger. “We are the sort of people that keep to muscled arms and otherwise, but I have to admit, it’s pretty nice. We know enough about guns to tell you which end the bullets come out of and how to mostly hit a target, and that’s about it.” She shared since it was probably especially obvious at this point.
“I didn’t notice much weight either way, but it’s probably a little different feeling actually in action.” Venny said, Vimmy smiling faintly at the handgun and how it felt in her grip. Unlike Venny, weaponry outside of herself hadn’t quite lost its lustre for her.
“It’s pretty nice… Probably took awhile to get their standard to something like this, but it seems that it was worth the effort.” She said, raising her eyebrows and then carefully handing it back off. “It feels good, I like the fit of it in my hand.”
“Then you are more refined than many who cross through my doors. Though, if you prefera simple strength of arms in terms of product, the best for you is likely this.” Wishbone went under his ‘counter’. “I’ll note this is a custom paint job that hasn’t been claimed yet. Otherwise, they are much less garish.”
“The BY-51K. Only gun I know that has never baffled anyone. Six base parts, easy to assemble and clean, extraordinarily resilient. Leave it be for years, leave it buried under mud, sand, in water, you can pull it back out and it will almost certainly still fire with minimal loss. I wouldn’t take one to kill something exceptionally fearsome, but as a general firearm, there’s nothing else that compares for unknown, wide ranging dangers.”
Christopher did so, and was presented with an even larger ‘drum’ of ammo that consisted of two large circles that stuck out on either side of the weapon. It looked like you could probably carry several hundred bullets in such a magazine. But based on how Christopher held it, it seemed considerably lighter than such a large amount of bullets would be.
“This is a Makeshift. The tops on either side can be opened…at which point you can pour in almost anything. Damaged bullets, general debris, broken items of any sort of material, wood, glass, metal, bone, anything. Slot the access ports closed, and twist the barrel around…” The man did so horizontally, meaning each round segment switched places. “The Makeshift will process whatever you place inside it into improvised bullets and load them to fire nearly immediately. Provided you do not load explosives or items like Intricacies in the Makeshift, it can produce several dozen sets of improvised, forged on the spot ammunition before it requires cleaning and repair. The downside being the added weight, but for the strong who also like to improvise, it can be a godsend to be able to make bullets out of whatever is broken around you.”
“...That is actually quite interesting. You may have a sale.“ Christopher sighted again with the gun, before he passed it to the girls. “Test the weight, girls. You can probably fire this with one arm where most couldn’t. Maybe that will never happen, but Wishbone is giving it a recommendation, so at least honor him with a touch test again.”
“I must clarify that the Makeshift only works with solids. Placing liquids inside it will not work. Gels work a LITTLE, but the results are very subpar. You can probably get away with inserting some wet or moist material, but pure liquid will not work.”
The BY-51K had made them smile, both because of the paint job and because of the utility of it. In the same way a man with a sword would hopefully never need to use a knife but still carried one just in case, it pretty perfectly echoed their sentiment on guns in general. If they had to, then dependability was a big plus.
“...Huh. Just about anything into bullets, right?” Venny whistled, finding the spot where the stock would sit on her shoulder and likewise sighting despite continuing to keep her fingers away from the trigger. “There’s plenty of times I’ve been in that would have come awful handy. If I was picking apart something at range, this would probably be ideal… Like I said, we’ve been trained to hit targets either on the ground or in the air, so I can see the potential.”
Venny held the GARM-9 out in one arm, testing the weight once again to see if she could support it; While she noticed the heft this time, it wasn’t enough to get her grip to shake noticeably, far stronger than she looked. Closing one eye to check out the ironsight too, she nodded in satisfaction before passing it to Vimmy. “What do you think?”
“Honestly, I like it a lot. I was always partial to walnut inlays back home, I preferred that sort of design because it was classy. You remember, what’s her name, she had those golden pistols?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Those were ugly as sin. Now this pupp- I mean, now this gun, this is nice. Probably fires like a dream.” Vimmy said approvingly, also going from checking the feel of it braced against her shoulder to holding it outward to see if she could support it with one hand. She wasn’t going to let Venny show her up, even if it was a little more work for her. Once she was satisfied she checked the scope for herself, realizing the gun certainly could work at longer ranges pretty well. Her only real capability for that was missiles, and those weren’t exactly accurate enough to brag about… “I’m impressed, it’s a big step up from what we were used to. AR-15’s aren’t nearly the same.”
“Psh, you’ve got that right. All the work you have to do just to get them up to snuff, this sort of gun makes them look like peashooters with an attitude problem.” Venny giggled.
“I am afraid you have me at a loss; what is this AR-15 line?” Wishbone said.
“Local product. Not something you would have encountered. Related to their exceptionally altered bodies.” Christopher said.
“Ah. I see. A closed circle. Alas, but some do not share. Anything else?”
“Something…if things are dire. In one’s face. You want them gone.”
This time, Wishbone took one of the guns off the wall.
“For this, we’ll return to the White Lightning line. A newly developed doubled concept. WL-WHM-19. Ambidextrous, with both a lever and pump-slide reloading system. Workable as a one handed weapon for those with some strength and skill, unlike the Garm, which I would not recommend as a one handed weapon unless you possess truly exceptional arm strength as you have demonstrated, and of course, a stock for the more stable proper two handed grip. Textured surface, should you shoot at target at close range and your hands get…wet. And, while this can throw the balance off if used incorrectly, the weapon has a non-lethal setup option that utilizes units of compressed air loaded at the back of the firearm.” Said thin cans make it look like the shotgun had horns. “Fires blasts of blunted force that have been demonstrated to be capable of moving 300 pound targets back 5 to 7 feet. Simple switch system to alter between fire modes. The high factories have recently been attempting to develop certain specialized ammunition that would be effective against certain highly resistant targets, certain fiends and Elite crafted creatures. The more…intangible. Such a material is proving very hard to fully realize, and only this particular weapon can fire the prototype shells that have been made so far. In case that factor ever comes along.”
Christopher had attached the stock, rapidly sliding the loading port to see how smooth it worked, before he removed it and aimed it with one arm, using both arms.
“Not a weapon for hunting, then.”
“Not unless you want your meat very shredded and burned. This is designed to punch through armor and bone. I suppose you could use it to hunt Goars, though getting that close to a Goar’s skull is not recommended no matter what gun you have.”
“Agreed.” Christopher flicked the lever reload a few times, then tested the slide. “Huh. That is smooth. Like butter. Have a feel, girls. You could probably fire a good nine shots in ten seconds with this gun with a few days training.”
Venny had reached for it first once more before Vimmy plucked the gun into her hands instead, her sister giving her A Look that she pretended not to notice. “Oh, wow. This is a little familiar- I mean, not that we’ve seen this particular line before, but most people back where we come from had something like this somewhere in their house. Even just for home defense. It’s pretty hard to miss up close, when your misses can be deadly in their own right.”
“Psh- this here ain’t your grandpa’s shotgun.” Venny said, briefly dipping into a deeper version of her accent that Vimmy snickered at. “No, you’re right about that. Nonlethal options are probably nice to have, actually, on top of everything else… I didn’t think much of guns for close up work because of all our other tools, but I think I’ve changed my mind a little.” Vimmy admitted, turning it in her grip before passing it to Venny.
“I do like this texture, it’d be a hell of a thing to mess up from sweaty palms or wet hands. What sort of ammunition? I’m guessing it isn’t silver ball bearings and holy water…” Venny shrugged to herself before testing the weight again in one hand. It was nice to be able to heft guns like this with one arm, but she kept herself mindful of what they were doing and didn’t preen too much over it. “Can’t imagine much not stopping dead in its tracks after taking a blast from this.”
“Me and you would even have a hard time.” Vimmy pointed out, Venny nodding in agreement. “I don’t know who has a thicker skull sometimes, us or Goars in particular, but I think it’d just about come to the same.”
“Have you come to a decision then?” Wishbone said.
“I’ll take a GARM. I think by your look, you’d also like one of those, Venny?”
“Yes sir, if that’s alright.” Venny nodded eagerly.
“And Vimmy, from how I saw you look and hold it, I think one MB-34 would be appropriate. You are not one for dual wielding, and Wishbone would heavily advise against doing that unless you have a very specialized setup.”
“Though in emergencies, even I cannot deny that perhaps the best immediate option would be ‘spray and pray’.” Wishbone removed one of the elaborate handguns from the main box, as there were three in the crate he’d hauled out and he needed to place it in a smaller packing crate. “Anything else, Christopher?”
“Dessert.”
“...I take it, you are still fond of cutlery?”
“Always will be.”
Wishbone produced one last box, that folded open like a jewel box. It did not have jewelry, but various forms of knives.
“Light-etched as always.”
“...I’ll take the whole box.”
“Excellent. Do tell your wife hello, it has been a very long time since we’ve seen her.”
“I will. Pack it up. Girls, you’re carrying all this. I’m getting old and after finding out those details about your muscles, I am subcontracting such necessities.”
“Absolutely!” Venny said happily, Vimmy adding in a cheerful noise as they did just that. One would put a box to the others back, get it in place, and then switch roles until they were packed up, neither showing signs of strain or stress even with the weight. It was important to both to play that off. “Thank you very much, Mr. Wishbone, it was nice meeting you!”
Vimmy curtsied before saying goodbye; She’d gotten pretty good at them after being rusty for so long.
They then discovered the downside of having to go back the way they had come…once again blindfolded and deafened. And now with a tower of boxes on each of their backs.
Even when he didn’t mean for it to be, it always turned out to be training when it came to Christopher and his choices.
And in between the concealing, and Christopher helping them with their laden forms out the door, not even he noticed that the two women who had been speaking in the entry room before was down to one. In the shadows.
Watching. Fingers interlaced.
And it wasn’t a casual interest.
There was a realization in the shadowy eyes.
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