Had this idea in my head, a little snippet. Might writing more if I feel like it.
Mostly rambled text but hopefully someone will be entertained or even inspired by it.
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My name is Taylor Hebert and I am a Parahuman.
There was really no other way to say it.
I could use super powers.
Okay, technically there was another way to say it, I could say I had abilities outside the realms of human understanding, I could say Alexandria had something in common with me, I could even say I could get a new tag on the PHO, but it was all semantics at this point.
So where was I going with all this?
Well, my power meant that I could beat someone up who didn't have powers. That physically speaking I was better than anyone else my size. According to the PHO it also meant that I probably had some form of brain damage.
There was a lot speculation on the hows and whys but the general consensus was that people with superpowers behaved oddly compared to the average non-super powered sort. I didn't blame them, it was like having a gun duct taped to your hand.
I was rambling I realized.
Was it really considered rambling when I was only thinking it?
It was probably a coping mechanism so I wouldn't die of embarrassment with the fact that I was caught stuffing my mouth with flowers. It didn't help that my silent contemplation had taken about a minute thus fuelling the current awkwardness between parent and child.
"Uhh kiddo, I know it's healthy to eat your vegetables and all but don't you think you should eat stuff that's actually cooked?" I coughed, a single red petal finding it's way onto the floor. My father, looked more amused than anything else but he was clearly confused about the situation.
Luckily I managed to come up with a perfectly valid excuse.
"Uhhh-." Well, it'd be perfect if I could get it into words. "I like Turkish delights and was taste testing for ingredients?" Smooth Hebert, smooooth. Also technically not lying. I did like Turkish delights and I was taste testing for ingredients. Just not taste testing for Turkish delights.
My father smirked before grabbing the rose petal off the floor before giving it an experimental sniff.
"Well, try not to get yourself caught grabbing roses from the neighbours, I know they might not miss one or two but you never know." Frowning at the petal between his fingers he gave a quick nibble, his curiosity overwhelming his common sense before the lines in his face deepened in disgust.
"Yeah, not for me." He said before discarding it and patting my head. With one last smile dad was off to work falling for my cunning ruse.
It was the weekend and while he could've taken the day off he didn't. It left me alone with my thoughts and my powers.
Powers, plural.
From what I could tell I was some sort of tinker that also happened to shoot fire from my hands for a short amount of time and heal myself. I could eat stuff, figure out what components they had and combine them to make 'potions'. Most importantly I could make healing potions!
Capes that could heal were in high demand since they could only be in one place at once. A person could only exist so hard.
But a tinker that could make potions that could be stockpiled and used? Well that changes things!
Besides healing I could make potions that made you stronger, boosted your mental focus and energy, made you better at sneaking around, and even one that made you invisible!
My potions in other words could give powers!
Well temporarily at least. My first priority of course was to gather ingredients so I could mix and match. Unlike other tinkers who required big expensive materials I seemed to get by on flowers, herbs and rat tails. Weird small stuff like that.
Still, higher grade ingredients in my mind would no doubt make for better potions which would let me be a better hero but those would cost money.
However to make money I had to make potions, the problem with selling them was the fact that I could be targeted, so I either had to be ready for a fight or be subtle about it.
To be ready for a fight (and thus be a hero) I needed better potions so that left the subtle option. Selling to neutral rogues or unaffiliated heroes who wouldn't abuse the potions or tell the PRT about me.
The problem with selling to the official heroes like Armsmaster was that he'd probably pressure me into joining and frankly with my frail ego I'd fold faster than Leet and Uber's dignity at the first sign of a viewer.
Not that I had anything against the Wards. In fact I was a big fan! It's just, joining the Wards wasn't something I wanted to do straight away.
If I had to be totally honest it was because I didn't want to be dead weight. The newbie that was looked down upon. I get enough of that when I go to school. I wanted to get a reputation first, impress them, maybe even have them come to me to be recruited.
I smiled, imagining what it would be like.
Their leader Triumph would approach me, get on his knees and ask me to join the team!
"I dunno Triumph, I seem to be doing alright kicking ass and taking names on my own." I'd say dismissively peeling off the remains of Hookwolf from my awesome fists.
"But Taylor, we need you!" He'd pause. "I need you!" His perfect abs would reply.
"Oh alright then." A juvenile fantasy to be sure but hey, a lot heroes have nice bodies.
Anyways it also meant I wouldn't sell to the criminals. ABB would probably kill me, the Merchants would strap me down and force me to make Tinker drugs for them all day and the Empire 88 would probably slap some armor on me and turn me into some sort of Nordic looking Cape to compliment Fenja and Menja.
Huh, I didn't actually mind the last idea.
The armor not the Nazis.
Now that I thought about it I seemed to have forging techniques in my head to do just that.
All I needed was either a forge or an anvil. Oddly I didn't need fire to make equipment. Huh.
What was I? Some sort of fantasy novel tinker? I could summon fire and heal, brew potions and forge armor, all I needed now was the power to enchant stuff and I'd…
I paused right there, the terrible taste of rose long forgotten in my mouth as I contemplated the designs that had suddenly appeared in my head.
"Where the hell would I even get a soul gem?" Well, if my brain was right I could probably enchant items using that, but that seemed a tad bit villainy and even if I had no morals I'd still need the actual soul gems to capture souls to enchant stuff with anyways which quite frankly didn't seem to exist. Hell I didn't even know how to make them!
Well, I suppose I'd settle for the armor for now. Getting scrap metal shouldn't be too hard, I figured I could head out to the boat yard or one of the many abandoned warehouses and grab stuff there.
Getting an anvil on the other hard would take more work, it's not like tool stores still sold them.
Using my mortar and pestle I continued to make more healing potions, the more I had in store the less likely I would die when I went out and it wouldn't hurt to have spares. The glass bottles seemed to materialize as I finished.
Then something in my mind clicked, a feeling deep inside that compelled me to look to the stars...