Guys Being Dudes

The next day of school was surprisingly uneventful. Despite being prepared for an encounter with Frank, John's nemesis was a no show. Word on the grapevine was that he was out for a medical issue, with rumors ranging from a sprained ankle to steroid injections to a tumor. It was only after the third foot-related rumor John overheard that he realized it was because of the trick he pulled yesterday. Feet don't change sizes randomly overnight, let alone in one seemingly random instant. Few people would skip seeing a doctor over something like that.

I think I'm supposed to feel bad about this, but I really, really don't.

John cruised through classes with his mind at ease, more or less. Worries about June and Nazrinn invaded his thoughts at unpredictable intervals and kept him from completely returning to a blissfully pre-Frank mindset, but there wasn't a lot he could do about it at school. His only real option was to keep an eye on Ms. Maritty to see if she showed any suspicious behavior.

-
Sarah Maritty
[Domstitute Teacher]
Level 9 Human Miss
By all accounts a ray of sunshine and good cheer, Sarah Maritty's natural charisma endears her to most everyone around her. Even so, Sarah is a surprisingly private person and keeps her affairs to herself. She currently works as a substitute while aspiring to become a full time teacher.
RP: 6
-

Is this suggesting she's secretly dangerous or that she's just the kind of person who is really into latex, leather, and riding crops?

John watched Ms. Maritty closely for the duration of homeroom. It was hard for him to believe that the bubbly, almost whimsical young blonde standing at the head desk was the sort to tie men up in dungeons and teach them what bad boys they were. How could someone so dainty be so commanding? Then again, June- or Nazrinn, rather, had said that lots of women had secretly outrageous sex lives. If anyone were to know, it would be a Succubus.

Unless she was lying to me just to get my dick in her mouth. Does that make any sense? Whatever, it doesn't matter. I'll keep tabs on her anyway, just in case.

History passed exactly as Wentworth had said it would; she paid John no extra attention whatsoever. Her lessons on the Crusades continued, but John had trouble figuring out how the Order of the Golden Rose was supposedly involved and what lesson she was trying to teach him about them. As far as he could tell, some dipshits got all self-important and pillaged a bunch of random towns, got their asses handed to them, and were overshadowed when the real knights moved in. Wentworth herself said the Order specifically wanted to get to Jerusalem, what would they care about all this?

Without anything better to do afterwards, John got to skill grinding Sleight of Hand. The bags of his nearby classmates made for easy targets, all he had to do was reach towards them. Several dozen experiments earned him a better understanding of the skill before culminating in a new level.

-
<Skill Level Up!>
Sleight of Hand Lv. 2
Range increase: +1 foot
-

The limitations of the skill intrigued him. He found that the sleight did not work when he had reached towards a bag and attempted to steal something without any target in mind. He had no problem grabbing something when he knew it was in the bag, like a textbook he just saw them put away, and could even steal things with only a generic idea, like money from a purse. Items on a person's body were more limited. He couldn't steal something like a necklace or ring, but items in pockets were fair game. Curiously, no one seemed to notice when he did so, even large phones from tight pants, nor did they notice when he used the skill in reverse to put something else in its place.

There was one close call when John had placed the contents of the pockets of everyone in range into a single bag. The added weight shifted its balance and it fell from the desk it was sitting on. Thankfully John was quick enough to remove all of the pilfered goods before his neighbor bent down to pick it back up. In the end, John put everything he stole back where it belonged. He wasn't hurting for money anymore, courtesy of the Abyss, and none of his targets had wronged him in the past. He considered the morality reward for altruism he had received for Alter Body and weighed the value of trying to gain a similar buff from a purely malicious act, but it didn't seem worth it at the time. Besides not being in the mood, John wasn't sure if he should wait to apply the reward to something a little more potent than Sleight of Hand.

Either way, this is going to be useful in the war against Frank. Now, what can I plant on him to cause the most damage, and how do I draw attention to it?

That question was at the forefront of John's thoughts for the remainder of the day, enough so that he didn't pay nearly as much attention to Ms. Maritty during art class as he'd intended. For all his musing, he didn't come up with a decisive plan. His options were nearly infinite, and he was paralyzed by choice. Considering it wasn't a pressing matter, he dropped it and pulled out his phone to text Liam.

---

[John N.]: you weren't on the bus. we still meeting up or are you missing again?

[Liam S.]: I appreciate your concern

[Liam S.]: especially how promptly you checked to see if I was okay

[Liam S.]: i am touched

[Liam S.]: truly

[Liam S.]: (o´ ▽ `o)

[John N.]: get over yourself. you're clearly fine, considering you have the energy to be a dick.

[Liam S.]: #blessed

[John N.]: i hate you.

[Liam S.]: you love me

[Liam S.]: anyway yeah

[Liam S.]: lets meet at my house

[John N.]: cool. I'll text when I'm outside?

[Liam S.]: no need

[Liam S.]: ill be in the garage

[John N.]: doing what?

[Lian S.]: SCIENCE!

[John N.]: okay, but seriously…

[Liam S.]: youll see

[Liam S.]: ☆⌒(≧▽​° )

[John N.]: you are exhausting.

---

John boarded the bus home and killed the time with some casual web browsing. The last two days had been so stressful and full of Abyssal business that he hadn't the time to trawl around the internet and nourish his inner memelord. Today's focus was on the current disaster of the week. Apparently a plane had gone missing over the Atlantic yesterday, resulting in an abundance of uninspired template fills and captions comparing it to the one that disappeared a few years ago. Bored sooner than expected, John switched over to lazily watching the scenery go by, transitioning from the open and green opulence of the area around Ashcroft to the denser, grey lower class districts and back again.

By all means, John felt like he belonged there, with the lower-middle class in the more urban areas of Springfield. He had a nice house in a wealthy area and went to an expensive private school, but he never felt like one of the rich kids. Maybe it was because the Newmans were still frugal with their spending cash, that his mom drove an ordinary SUV instead of a luxury car, or that his home didn't have a pool or lavish exterior like so many of his neighbors. It always felt to John that his family was living a little above their means, but just barely. He had to wonder why his parents thought working so hard to afford everything was worth it. It wasn't like his dad was around much lately to enjoy it.

Dad...

A cough from the front of the bus derailed John's train of thought. They had arrived at his stop without him noticing. He caught the driver's expectant eyes through the rearview mirror, mumbled, "I'm getting off later," and waved for her to continue. She shrugged, pulled the door closed, and drove on. John decided not to continue pondering his family life, and banished such thoughts below a second helping of shitposts. Liam's stop wasn't far off anyway.

It was only a short walk to Liam's once John got off. He could see the cream colored Suffield home down the road after turning a corner. Though John couldn't see into it, he could tell that the garage door was open, as promised. Only once he was closer could John see Liam hunched over a workbench with a hot glue gun in hand, surrounded by popsicle sticks and toothpicks.

"Arts and crafts? Really?" John called out as he walked up the driveway. "Is that what passes for science these days?"

"John! My boon companion hath arrived! " Liam dropped whatever he was working on, adjusted his glasses, and ushered his friend inside. "Come in, come in, o ye of little faith, and you shall see."

"Is the Shakespeare speech necessary?" John said as he crossed the threshold.

Liam's garage was a textbook example of what happens when a family abandons any notions of using the space for its intended purpose. There was theoretically still room for a small car to squeeze in, if one were to push aside several cardboard boxes and plastic tubs, but none had been parked there for some time. Instead, the chilly room had become storage for things like tools, holiday decorations, forgotten toys, and scrap lumber. The left wall was dominated by a pegboard holding an assortment of tools in various conditions, easily within reach of the sturdy workstation below it. A classic red tool chest sat beside it, coated in sawdust, with one drawer hanging limply open. A peek inside revealed an array of sockets, with the impression labeled 10mm conspicuously empty. The sawdust gave the otherwise damp and mildew touched air a throat-scratching dryness, combining the worst of both worlds. A battered old refrigerator stood proudly against the back wall, humming with life, nestled between the door leading inside and a pair of dusty hockey nets.

Liam crossed the garage and smacked the wall-mounted control for the garage door, which noisily rolled itself closed. He wore a black t-shirt that read 'Sylvanas Did Nothing Wrong' in red lettering and a well worn pair of jeans. His sandy blonde hair was a bit messier than usual, limp and unwashed, and his freckled face seemed a bit sallow despite his grin. John slung his bag over to the workbench before closing in for the mandatory one-armed, hand clasping, definitely-no-homo half hug of brotherly manliness and masculine security.

"Good to see you in the flesh, my dude," Liam said, dropping the act.

"You too, man." John nodded. "Things have been, uh, weird lately."

"You're telling me."

The nervous energy between the two steadily grew as an almost tangible static charge. It was easy to act like everything was normal over text, but now that they were both in person, neither could muster up a facade of bravado. John recognized in Liam the same anxious tendencies he so often noticed in himself: shifting feet, fidgeting hands, darting eyes, and a sudden uncertainty regarding appropriate posture. He was sure that he looked the same to Liam.

"You're probably going to think I'm crazy when I say this, " Liam said. "So maybe I should go last."

"Dude, you took the words out of my mouth. I'm not even sure if I should be telling you anything. It could cause more than a few problems for both of us, but mostly me."

"Well I can promise that I haven't done anything illegal," Liam offered with an awkward laugh.

"I don't think I can make the same claim," John admitted. "But a misdemeanor at most, I swear!"

"My friend, I have a feeling that I will either have a newfound respect for you or a traumatic sense of betrayal by the end of this conversation," Liam said.

"Only one way to find out." John grimaced.

"Yup."

A long moment of weighty silence followed. Neither wanted to go first, leaving the pair mired in uncertainty. Eventually, Liam leaned back on the bench and made the leap.

"So… I'm a superhero," he said.

"Say what!?" John took a step back in shock. Whatever he was expecting Liam to say, this was decidedly not it.

"Okay, okay, I admit, I'm embellishing a little," Liam said, trying his best to be cavalier about it. "But I do have a crazy superpower, I can prove it."

"Liam, I-"

"No, no. Hang on a second." Liam shook his head and darted over to the fridge. He pulled something from it before returning. "Before you say anything, let me show you."

"Liam-"

"Shh! Just listen," Liam insisted, gradually transitioning from anxiety to excitement. He held up what he had retrieved from the fridge. "Okay, so, you see that I have an apple and an orange in my hands, yeah?"

"Yes, but-"

"Hush!" Liam scolded. "Now you know the old saying about comparing apples to oranges? Well… check this out."

Liam lifted the fruit to eye level and held them close to each other. John had **** but to play along and watched intently. Part of him was expecting this all to be some kind of prank, but Liam took a deep breath, tapped the fruits together, and proved him wrong. The apple and the orange passed through each other, like a clipping error in a game, but they never came out the other side. Instead, in an instant, the two distinct shapes became one. There was no moment of actual transition that John could perceive, the fruits were simply two things, then one. The result was a rounded fruit with a deep orange-red color, dimpled like an orange but shiny like an apple. Liam held it out before John with a proud grin.

"What the flying fuck?"

"Behold!" Liam declared with a shit-eating grin. "An appange!"

"That doesn't answer my question!" John shouted back.

"Yes it does. 'What' it is is an appange!"

"Okay, fine. How the flying fuck?" John demanded, incredulous.

"I have absolutely no idea!" Liam shouted. His wide smile began to falter, and John could see his friend's eyebrows begin to pull together.

-
Appange
Item - Consumable
A bizarre combination of an apple and an orange. This bastard fruit does not occur anywhere in nature, even in the Abyss, nor should it.
Restores 1 hp
-

"Holy shitballs, it's real…" John blinked a few times to make sure he was reading the information on the Observe window correctly. He reached out to take the fruit from Liam and gave it a more thorough look over.

"You… believe me?" It was Liam's turned to be stunned. "You don't think this is just some kind of magic trick? I was positive you would."

"Oh, it's magic alright," John said, still turning the appange over between his fingers, "but it's not a trick. I'm certain."

John lifted the hybrid to his mouth and took a bite. It was bad. Very bad. The skin, or rind, whatever it qualified as, was thick, chewy, and flavorless, but that was a blessing compared to the fruit itself. The sweetness of both fruits clashed for dominance, while the citrus of an orange merged with an apple's hint of bitterness to punish John's tongue with a gag-inducing melange of flavors. Even chewing it was a wretched experience. John spat it out immediately and violently.

"That's the worst thing I've ever eaten, and I've eaten dirt!"

"I know, right?" Liam's rebuilding excitement was interrupted by comprehension. "Wait… what?"

"Long story - don't care to tell it." John waved Liam off while trying to purge his mouth of the appange's lingering flavor. "When did you find out you could do this?"

"Two days ago, after school," Liam said, "while I was painting minis."

"...And?"

"I was getting annoyed because I couldn't get a color to mix right and I was starting to waste a lot of paint. Shit's expensive, man!" Liam huffed. "I just started banging the two bottles together in frustration and… poof! Next thing I know I'm holding a bottle of 'Forest Yellow' in my hands."

"So you have no clue why you can do it?" John asked.

"Pretty much. I know that I can and how to do it, but I have no idea what actually makes it happen. All I know is that I can only do it a few times a day. Here, look," Liam said. He stepped back over to the work bench and presented John with a Warhammer 40k miniature. It had the monocular helmet of a Tau but stockier armor with massive pauldrons, painted in traditional Space Wolf blue. "My first experiment once I got over thinking I was going crazy, the Tau Marine."

"But that's heresy," John said, bringing a hand to his chest as if stunned by offense.

"I'm glad one of us is taking this in stride." Liam sighed in an overly dramatic fashion. "You know, I spent the last two days worrying my best buddy might freak out and call Area 51, and here he is, throwing memes at me."

"I'm sorry, man, I didn't mean to come off like I don't care." John reached out to pat his friend's shoulder and readied himself to Observe. "Let's just say that I might have an idea about what's going on."

-
Liam Suffield
[Novice Splicer]
Level 3 Human Demimage
As the Gamer's best friend, Liam shares many of John's nerdy interests, including the lewd ones. Liam has a timid demeanor in public, but privately he is bombastic and energetic. He is excited but apprehensive about his new mysterious ability.
RP: 77
-

"Uh, John? What's with the weird look?"

John pulled his attention away from the Observe window and closed it to look Liam over one more time. Somehow, his friend was in the Abyss. John's joy at having a peer he could lean on was unfortunately matched by concern.

"You should sit down," he said. "We've got a lot to talk about."