Chapter 12: 9 Acquisitions

Escape was a frustrating formula to work with. I could combine wax and vinegar for the power to teleport. It sounded amazing, but the formula would only work to get me 'out' of places. I couldn't use it to cross the city, I couldn't even use it for tactical advantages in combat. It was totally useless in open areas without a concept of inside and outside to work with. Additionally, I could only vaguely affect where the formula would deposit me.

Fortunately I had enough control to make sure I appeared at a rear exit of the hospital. The door was a fire exit, so there was no chance of someone opening it and discovering me. Also the affinity Decadence gave me with surveillance devices let me make sure I was in a blindspot. The area had sparse coverage to begin with, so it wasn't that much of a challenge.

I quickly accessed my workshop through the door and slipped out of my costume. Dropping the coat, mask, and metal details instantly transformed me back to a normal civilian. At that point it was just a matter of following the route I'd previously identified to avoid security cameras until I was far enough away from the PRT hospital to blend into the crowd.

Getting away from the hospital was a lot easier than what my infiltration had entailed. Still, sneaking into a place like that was something I never would have thought I be able to handle a week ago. As it stood the exercise barely challenged my abilities. I'd thought I'd need to use my monomolecular pen knife to bypass doors but it seemed that now I could pick locks. None of my abilities specifically were related to lock picking, but my understanding of mechanics and crafting skills was so excessive that any pin and tumbler lock might as well have been an open door. Electronic locks and sensors were more of a challenge, but I was able to find alternate routes or bypass the systems with a bit of effort. That was actually a bit surprising as I hadn't practiced much with those kinds of skills. It was odd using them for the first time to get around security systems, but I was able to handle electronics infinitely more complicated than what they had in this place.

I was able to pick out surveillance cameras but I hadn't been able to avoid them all. Fortunately there was an advantage to Decadence covering all aspects of design. A bit of alteration to my hair, the slightest touches of pharmacy makeup on my face and a change in how my clothes sat and I looked like a completely different person. Even if they could pick me out from every other civilian walking into this place they would never be able to match me to the person who appeared on their tapes. Same with any member of the hospital staff who might have spotted me. I hadn't gotten a second glance on my way in, so I think I was probably safe on that front.

I had gotten damn lucky when searching for Panacea. I half expected to have to jump out, hit her with the Miracle Cure formula, and then immediately use my Escape formula. I'd spotted her slipping into the basement and had just enough time to duck into my workshop to change and cut her off when there was no one around.

I wasn't sure how I was feeling about Panacea at this point. My passenger cared about her. Not as much as Taylor, but at least on the same level as any of the Undersiders. There was so much mixed up stuff around her I couldn't tell if I'd done any good. From her reactions it was obvious there was something to my passenger's predictions regarding her home life. She had tried to downplay it but it was clear how much it was bothering her. It was a strange experience looking as someone else's family drama. I may not have helped on that front but at least she wouldn't be nursing an injury for the next six weeks.

I thought Panacea would be pressing me for information, but she got almost nothing out of me. Plenty of stuff about my power, but I'd decided I was willing to share that anyway. In regards to grilling me on the Undersiders she either got distracted or is really bad at the whole subtle interrogation thing. The only new pieces of information she'd picked up was Tattletale's headache and the nature of my arrangement with them. And that Taylor wasn't a tinker.

I still felt kind of embarrassed about that hairpin. The idea that I'd need proof was a last minute decision. I originally thought about just taking a metal sample, but I figured they'd need some evidence that I could make things. Machinist was an unbelievable acceleration power for anything involving mechanics or fabrication. When it was combined with my Smithing and two design perks I'd let things get away from me. From her expression when I tossed it to her I could tell she thought it was ridiculous. Honestly, I was kind of relieved when her sister barged in if just for the distraction.

Also, it's good to know my Force Field formula counters impact along with damage. It would have sucked to get the injury from the hit negated only to be sent flying through half a dozen walls. I was right on the money about Glory Girl's restraint. That blow would have nearly collapsed my chest, and that's counting the boost of my durability. There's also the impact damage from being sent flying. Like, that was legitimately attempted murder. Well, she was a hero cape, so probably involuntary manslaughter. A villain would definitely get murder two.

Everything I did tonight was definitely going to be figured out by Lisa and thus communicated to the boss. Even if she didn't have information sources inside the Protectorate she had enough insight to be able to figure out something was up, if not from the reactions to this then when Panacea showed up without injuries. That would probably be an interesting conversation. I ran through everything I'd said. Nothing gave details on the Undersiders, except the crack about Lisa not being able to figure out my tinkering. I let them know who I was and that I was hired, but that was entirely on my side. No details of powers, no locations, not even information on what I had made them.

I didn't like the idea that everything I did and everything I was capable of was being conveyed to a mystery crime lord, but the fact was that my abilities were growing faster than she would be able to report. She might have a hint about the upper level of technology I could create, but with the blind spots in her power and how the more esoteric applications of my abilities seemed to stress her out I doubted she had a complete picture. I would still need to prepare for repercussions, both from her and from her boss.

Lisa might be angry, or she might just be exasperated. Either way I doubt this is going to end our relationship. And no matter what I stand by my position of not letting Panacea stay injured.

The day had been draining in the extreme. I was coming off a brutal work blitz with no proper sleep, and then this rushed infiltration and clandestine meeting. Now I was walking towards the docks in an evening drizzle and just wanted to crawl into bed. I'd made a commitment, both to myself, and to Mr. Laborn but there was no way I was dragging my tired ass to the gym tonight.

I was also in no mood to deal with Aisha. Since I didn't know who her snitch was I had no guarantee that she wouldn't show up for a 'completely spontaneous' surprise workout session. Instead I took the time honored strategy of cowardly putting off dealing with things. Maybe the girl could find a life outside of pestering me. She probably had all kinds of people to harass, some of whom might even be age appropriate for her.

As it stood I had only missed out on two days of scheduled workouts and runs. Still, that was exactly the kind of thing I promised myself I wouldn't let happen. I doubted it would be easier to keep a training schedule when my projects ramped up, much less during Bakuda's inevitable attacks.

That was the thing. Bakuda. She was definitely counting down to something. It had been nearly a week since Lung's capture. There's no telling the amount of tech she could have built up in that time. I badly needed to get started on countermeasures. My alchemy and reinforcement would only carry me so far. With Machinist I could do projects that should take days in a matter of hours. The cash I'd gotten from the Undersiders wouldn't help anyone when the bombing started. I would need to get started tomorrow. Prioritize what can make a difference, work like a madman, and just maybe I'd be able to get ahead of things.

But there was something I needed to deal with first, before planning, before sleep, before anything. During my infiltration, along with a few failed connections, my power had latched on to the strongest mote it had managed so far. It was from the Clothing constellation and was actually one of two motes clustered together. By expending all of the reach I had developed my power was able to latch onto the larger of the two motes. The one I connected to was an object. I couldn't get a good sense of the other one, but I could tell it was the skills needed to work with what the larger mote provided. One mote for materials, one for crafting ability. That meant I would have to figure out how to use what I received without any help. With something this powerful it might be able to turn the tide in the coming chaos. That's why sleep was not an option. I had to get back to my workshop and start my analysis.

I had to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do with a spool of Life Fibers.

At the moment I didn't have much to go on. I knew it could be used to enhance clothing, but that was about it. Fortunately I had an excellent quality lab to work with.

As soon as I got back to my apartment I opened my workshop. This was the first time I had gotten a small item and I wasn't sure how it would arrive. It turned out a locker had been placed in the wall of my entry room. Inside was a medium sized spool of glowing red thread.

So I had a spool of material that was more expensive than any ability I'd received so far. I know not all powers have an equal relationship between strength and cost, but there had to be something extraordinary about this thread. I carefully moved the spool into my Laboratorium to see what I could learn.

The first think I learned was how many Xeno alarms my Laboratorium had. As soon as the spool touched the scanner every light in the oversized room was blaring red, the cybernetic skulls were thrashing around and more than a dozen fail-safes were trying to activate. I had to scramble to the command throne just to stop the plasma incinerator from activating.

I didn't even know I had one of those.

It took half an hour of overrides before things calmed down enough for me to actually get a reading. It took another fifteen minutes of disabling safeties to get a reading that wasn't a full page of warning signs and caution symbols. Finally after all that I found out what I was dealing with.

The thread was an alien parasite. Life fibers were, in fact, alive. The thread was composed of multiple cells, but each was impossibly long and thin. And when I say impossibly thin I really mean that. I don't think they actually follow the laws of physics and there are a lot of aspects that seemed borderline unbelievable. For one thing they were incredibly durable. As in leagues beyond anything I could even conceive of making. This stuff made my best hyper alloys look like a joke and even if they were damaged there seemed to be a mechanism where they would restore themselves almost instantly.

My analysis could extrapolate how they fed on living creatures, either their blood or neural energy. They also seemed to have some mutagenic properties that let them alter their host. The hint about enhancing clothing made sense after I started looking into their feeding mechanism. Limiting the fibers to surface contact severely reduced the stress on the host's system. Rather than burning out the host it could maintain the relationship indefinitely without serious damage.

The potential for genetic augmentation was fascinating. The fibers seemed to work to accelerate evolution, pushing their hosts towards more robust bodies with larger brains and advanced nervous systems. They worked to enhance whatever species they came into contact with. In theory they could drive a planet towards developing sapient life, but that seemed more of a byproduct of their self-interest. Those traits led to better hosts for the life fibers to inhabit.

There was also evidence of intelligence, or at least the potential for it. The cells were all seemingly identical, but the energy exchange between them resembled a neural network. What I had on the spool was highly truncated. Projections from my lab's computers indicated there would normally be a significant mass of fibers coordinating the rest of them in a kind of hive mind. What I had here were the only life fibers in the universe, essentially a baby of its species. Not even that, more of a zygote.

It was naturally parasitic, but capable of a symbiotic relationship. It was also a living thing with the potential of developing intelligence. This wasn't a tool or resource to be exploited. It was a potential intelligent being and I needed to treat it as such.

Seeing as it could be used as clothing there were some possibilities. I didn't know how to combine it with other materials and if I used it by itself I'd estimate there was enough to maybe make a pair of gloves. I had no idea what kind of impact either act would have on the lifeform. I would have to look after it and see how it develops.

I drew up some estimates for nutritional needs. It seemed that it was capable of stasis pretty much indefinably, as in for thousands and thousands of years with no issue. If I wanted to awaken the life fibers it would need food, either bio-neural energy or blood. Bio-neural energy provided less sustenance and required continuous contact. So I would either have to maintain skin contact with the spool or introduce it to my blood. Neither of those seemed like a particularly good idea until I knew more about them.

Almost all of the knowledge I had received since I got my powers was based around mechanical principles. The only exception was Nanite Sciences. Those Nanites, unlike the ones from Grease Monkey or Machinist, had so many biological and medical applications that even though the bulk of the knowledge from that power revolved around construction and programing of nanomachines it necessitated a firm grounding in biology, particularly microbiology.

A functional set of nanites would actually be perfect for managing life fibers. Unfortunately I was months away from having that project at a workable state, and that was assuming I had all the facilities and resources that I needed. Instead I would just have to work with the biological knowledge I had and try not to mess this up. It was more than a little infuriating that the knowledge of how to work with something was separated from the material to be worked with.

I wasn't ready to leave things at that. I loaded myself with a full suite of defensive formulas and deactivated the stasis and suspension fields around the spool while leaving the scanners running. I was about to engage in the most elemental manner of scientific discovery known to man. The first and most effective method of information gathering understood at a core level by every human on the planet. I reached out and poked the spool with my finger.

This wasn't just because poking is the basis for scientific discovery. Life fibers could absorb neural energy through the skin. I needed data on the process, not just the extrapolation my lab provided. Based on everything I'd learned so far this should present almost no risk of injury.

I also wasn't getting any major concerns about this action from my passenger, which helped with the decision.

When my finger contacted the spool of red fibers there was a flare of energy and the whole mass began to glow. That was nothing compared to my experience. It felt like lightning was shooting up my arm. Someone was taking a sandblaster to my exhaustion and replacing it with ten cups of coffee and a shot of adrenalin. The fibers seemed to twitch and writhe on top of each other as well as squeeze down on the spool with incredible pressure.

I pulled my hand away and the energy vanished leaving me even more exhausted than before. I reactivated the stasis field and reviewed the scanned data, both from the fibers and my own body. There was a fascinating interaction between the life fibers and a human being. The ultimate potential was something I couldn't even guess at this point but at the very least it would be able to provide drastic physical enhancement. There would be significant stress on the person's body, especially if there wasn't some way of moderating it. That would be what the clothing integration could be for. Unfortunately I had no idea how to manage that. Working with life fibers in their raw state was a terrifying prospect, but I needed to press on, both for the sake of the lifeform and for the potential benefits I could see from it.

I wouldn't be accomplishing any of that tonight. I decided the best thing for now was to collect more data. I assembled a suite of scanners around the spool and left it under observation in my Laboratorium, making sure to suspend the numerous Xeno purging protocols before I left.

Heading back to my apartment I started making a much needed meal as I considered my next move. I had no illusions about Bakuda. Eventually she was going to make a move. Whatever she was planning it would probably be before Lung was moved to the Birdcage. She might want to cut loose with her tech, but if the ABB lost Lung they would be on borrowed time. Would she try to ransom him, or go for a jailbreak? I assumed he was being held in the Rig, which would be a hard target even for Oni Lee. Or so I assumed. I didn't know what his range or limitations were, so he might be able to jump into the holding cells from half way across the city.

So now that I had resources I needed to decide what I would work on. Ideally I would do the standard tinker procedure, build improved equipment to improve the quality and range of devices I would be able to create. If I put everything I had into upgrading my workshop and spend a few days on it I could be able to manage some serious technology, not just the material science tricks I'd pulled for the Undersiders. The question was whether I had the time to spare for that.

There was also the problem that such an upgrade could easily take all the resources I'd assembles to date. Having the capacity for advanced construction without being able to afford any of it is not a problem I wanted to run into. Even if they could afford it I wasn't currently comfortable doing more builds for the Undersiders and calling on their boss for resources was an absolute non-starter.

I needed some gear that would let me function properly as a cape. I'd proven I could manage to some extent last weekend, but a city wide bombing spree was a different matter than a throw down with Oni Lee, especially since I think he was trying to keep the tinker tech grenades quiet at that point. That was an advantage I wouldn't be able to rely on in the future.

So I needed to figure out what would serve me best in the coming crisis. The list I had made when Panacea asked me in the hospital had been made up on the spot, but most of it held up. I needed better electronic warfare options. Well, I needed any electronic warfare options. I also needed mobility, in case last Sunday's street level patrol at walking pace didn't drive that home. My dark alchemy would carry me pretty well, but it wouldn't hurt to have some offensive options between 'hit with stick' and 'wrath of god'.

The problem was there was a serious bottleneck as to what I could build at the moment. I might be able to manage some of the higher level items I could conceive of, but the fabrication process would be tedious in the extreme. I would have to create huge amounts of new alloys and I was doubtful even with full cannibalization of all the electronics I currently had at my disposal if I would be able to manage anything close to the computing power and control systems I would need for running something like a proper hardsuit. Also, none of that touched on the horror of powering tech like that. I needed a fusion system to break out any of the serious weapons or machinery, and getting one running is its own nightmare project.

When the time you need to complete a specific item starts to approach the time needed to get fully programed nanites up and running you need to reassess your priorities.

So, reevaluate the problem. The easiest of my projects to deal with is probably mobility. I wouldn't say I could literally rebuild an engine in my sleep, but it's a close thing. A car or air vehicle would be difficult to conceal without the kind of stealth systems Squealer was rumored to use. I needed something that would address mobility both in and out of cape identity.

I could build an incredible motorcycle.

The only problem was I didn't know how to ride a motorcycle. Oh, I knew how to operate one. I knew every aspect of that. I knew how they functioned, and what maneuvers different kinds of bikes would be able to manage just from their technical specs. I just had no practical experience.

But I could build the kind of bike that only existed in science fiction. If I did that I could also probably rig a basic assistance program and some gyroscopic controls to keep me from killing myself. Even if I didn't end up using it for cape work it would get me around the city much faster. With my workshop key giving me access to my cape equipment anywhere with a door I could do rapid response to a nearby area, change in my workshop, and then deal with the problem without any issue.

It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was leagues better than hoping I could manage with my current level of mobility. I did not want a repeat of this morning's trudge through the city.

After I finished eating I pulled up New Hampshire's transport regulations on my laptop. It seemed I could get a learner's permit for a motorcycle with just a written test. That was more limited than I would have liked, but motorcycle license tests needed to be scheduled well in advance. If I could find something in budget I could get on the road tomorrow. Anything would do considering I would be rebuilding it completely.

I could also load my bike with a good amount of technology. Taking advantage of the power of the engine, especially once I was done upgrading it, I would be able to run a decent set of equipment off it. I'd still be limited to what I could make, but I could probably manage some decent scanners and basic ECM. The bike could act as a mobile support point, especially if I could build an advanced enough control program for it

The day was catching up with me in a bad way. I made a few token searches for what I could find in terms of used motorcycles, then finally let myself collapse to sleep.

I had not turned off my watch alarm. It was probably for the best since I would have been happy to sleep until the crack of noon. Still, it took just about all of my willpower and no shortage of encouraging feelings from my passenger to haul myself out of bed, well off of mattress, and back into my morning routine.

Toast, coffee, run. That was the routine I had held to, and that was the routine I had decided I would not let slide just because my tinkering picked up. It wasn't as bad once I made it to the bay and started along the boardwalk. Yesterday's rain had cleared the air and it was just on the edge of a chill. That was my absolute favorite exercise weather. This entire endeavor would get a lot more trying once the summer heat started to set in. Maybe by then I'd be established enough to get a gym membership somewhere air conditioned. The Boxing gym was great and cheap, but its idea of a cardio area was a set of jump ropes. I hadn't been there in the summer, but I'm pretty sure they managed by sticking a fan by the door rather than the monstrous cooling costs a building like that would incur.

Since I got the Life Fiber Spool my forge had missed a couple of attempted connections, but on my way back from my run the Clothing constellation swung by and made a link. Sadly it wasn't the one I'd need to work with life fibers. No, this one was much stranger, which is really saying something. This wasn't a lifeform that could enhance things with the potential for intelligence. No, the Celestial Forge had just given me a fully intelligent being.

It was an expert crafter with telekinetic powers and thinker abilities that could both divine aspects of the future and details about anyone on the planet. Its crafting abilities could be shared with other people, eventually allowing them to develop skills approaching its level. It could also instantly transform a quantity of money into its value in raw materials, effectively bypassing all purchase and supply chain concerns. On top of that it was an ageless and tireless construct completely with no biological needs or vulnerabilities.

All of that sounded incredible, but there was one qualifier that moderated things. One massive, looming qualifier. All of these abilities were limited to one specific field. Not robotics, not weapon design, and not vehicles.

It was fashion.

My power had given me an immortal super powered fashion designer that manifested as an animated pair of gloves. The insanity of it was almost enough to overshadow the fact that I had just been given an intelligent creature like it was a prize from a cereal box. Two creatures if you counted the life fibers. I didn't know if they'd been created by my power or snatched from somewhere else, though there was a giant room full of skulls I had the same concern about. I remembered how the spool arrived and realized that I may be confining what is effectively a person to a tiny locker sealed in an extra-dimensional space.

As I rushed back to my apartment another horrible thought occurred. Was the intelligence attached to the gloves human? By that I meant was it a person trapped in glove form now? I hoped not. I thought the cyber skulls of my Laboratorium were the worst my power could manage. I didn't even want to think about someone sealed into the form of a pair of gloves for eternity.

I dashed up the shaky stairs to my apartment and barely took the time to bolt the front door behind me before rushing to the back closet and throwing open my workshop door. Like with the spool a new locker had been added to my entryway, though this had a more stylish feel than the industrial look of the one that appeared before. I'm not sure what the term was for the design, but the locker door had little flourishes on it that reminded me of something vaguely French.

The door was two feet square and centered at chest height. When I pulled it open there was a velvet stand like you would find in a store window. It supported a pair of pure white gloves. When I say pure white I mean it on an almost unnatural level. They were so bright they looked almost unreal. And then they started to move.

At first I thought they were on some kind of mannequin or stand that was holding their shape, but as they lifted up I could clearly see they were holding the form of hands with absolutely nothing inside them. The gloves rose into the air and floated out of the locker. They paused in front of me leaving me at a loss for how to proceed. This was a new lifeform. Either a completely new person or an intelligence that had just been created by my power. I had no idea how I should interact with it. There were too many questions. What did it want? How could I help it? Did it even want to stay here? Should I let it out? Could it function in the world?

All that was put on hold as the gloves lunged forward and started tugging at the light jacket I had worn on my run. It took a few seconds, but eventually I figured out that they were trying to take it off, not throttle me. I awkwardly slipped out of the coat and watched as the gloves held it up against the wall. They let go and the jacket stayed suspended in the air.

The gloves held themselves in the proportion that a human would normally have and started gesturing. It wasn't as clear as speech, but the impression I got was that they weren't happy with my jacket. No, they weren't happy with everything I was wearing.

"What's wrong with it?"

The gloves threw themselves up in and exasperated gesture and plainly pointed towards my jacket. When I continued to look confused they started tracing seams, feeling material, turning the jacket inside out and displaying the lining, and making strong gestures that seemed to express how it didn't go with anything else I was wearing.

"Ok, it doesn't look good." The gloves expression suggested that was a gross understatement. "But this is work out clothing. It's not like this is my cape costume."

As soon as I said that the gloves immediately redirected themselves towards my costume which was currently in a loose pile next to my mattress. The splayed their fingers in shock, them mimed fainting at the sight of it.

"It's..." What the hell was I doing? Why was I arguing with a pair of gloves? A few minutes ago I had been worried about imprisoning some intelligence and now I'm defending fashion decisions to a pair of hand coverings.

The gloves mimed rolling up their sleeves, which somehow stretched the cuffs to the length of opera gloves. They then used their new size to be able to fold their arms indignantly at me. Apparently Garment Gloves could shapeshift but used the power solely for the expression of scorn.

I knew they were trying to get to me, but damn it I had worked hard on that costume! "What's wrong with it?"

In response to my question the pieces of my cape outfit floated out of the pile. The Coat stayed in the air while the rest of the items carefully folded themselves up and arranged themselves on my desk in a manner that seemed like a personal attack.

"Hey, I worked hard on that. You think you can do better?"

That was apparently the wrong thing to say. The gloves leapt up in excitement and started disassembling my costume. I mean totally disassembling it. Seams were being pulled apart, buttons removed, even the shoes I wore were dismantled in front of my eyes. I made a few frantic grabs into the cloud, but it was clearly too far gone for me to have any hope of stopping it.

Inside the storm of clothing the gloves had found one of my notebooks and were scribbling in it frantically. Eventually the telekinetic chaos dropped away and I was able to climb over the piled and neatly arranged cloth, threat and other materials to see what the gloves had done.

They had drawn a sketch of a new costume. I had to admit, it was good. It took the broad themes of my previous design and ironed out the last artefacts of when I was scavenging for materials. This looked tailored and professional. There was a cowl instead of the bandana combo and the coat had been completely redesigned to be tailored with what seemed like more of a military cut. The other items of clothing were actually parts of the costume and not random pieces from my wardrobe. The mask, metal panels, and gauntlet had all been redesigned to fit with the new style. The gloves tapped the pencil against those items.

"What?"

They tapped again.

"Oh, yes. I can make those." I looked at the pile of cloth. "Can you make that with this?"

They waved a clear negative gesture, then rubbed the thumb and index finger of one hand.

"So you need money?" I hadn't budgeted for this, but I was dealing with an entirely new entity. If this let me start off on good terms it was worth it. My passenger was amused by the whole situation and was being no help at all.

I considered what I could afford. "Is a hundred dollars enough?" The gloves mimed horror. Fine. "Two hundred?" A less extreme reaction, but still a slight indication upward with one hand. "Three hundred, final offer." They clap the gloves together in excitement.

Well, that was settled. "I have to go. Are you good?" They made a negative gesture. "What do you need?" Thumb and forefinger rubbing, gesture to themselves. "You want to be paid?" Their movements seemed to indicate the tragedy of a lack of clothing. "You want funding for your own projects?" There were happy glove movements.

Well, they were effectively a person locked in my closet. Anything I could do to make it easier for them. I got an extra pair hundred dollar bills along with the funding for my costume and handed them to the gloves. The money vanished from their hands and fabric and thread started manifesting around them.

That may be limited to clothing materials, but there had to be a way for me to leverage that for my other projects. I left them to shower and get ready to head to the DMV. When I left the shower the T-shirt and jeans I usually wore were nowhere to be found and had been replaced with a loose approximation of the items that looked like they fell out of a designer catalog. I looked at the open door of my workshop where the gloves were somehow giving the impression that they were whistling innocently.

I sealed my workshop before I got changed. After putting on the new clothes, which were actually a great fit and really comfortable, I realized I had locked the gloves in my workshop along with every item of clothing I owned.

I elected not to think about that while I made my way to the department of motor vehicles.

It was a little ridiculous that my first step towards serious tinkering involved a test for a motorcycle learner's permit. I had downloaded a copy of the guide book and between a quick review and my frankly ridiculous level of mechanical understanding it wasn't really a challenge. Getting to the DMV right at opening hours also helped speed things along. After the written exam there was a vision test and a $30 fee, at which point I had my permit. I was restricted to riding between sunrise and sunset and couldn't carry passengers, but at least there weren't any limits on the types of motorcycle I could own.

This led to the real challenge. I only had a few grand in cash at the moment. I also didn't have confidence in my cash flow. Plus there were tax concerns if I started paying rent and utilities through undeclared income, but that was an end-of-the-month problem. The point was I needed to somehow manage to get the vehicle and all licensing and insurance taken care of without blowing a significant amount of my funds. That meant getting the cheapest bike I could.

I was planning such an extensive overhaul that I could pretty much just shop based on the frame. My web search had proven fruitful. When you don't care about quality and just want a vehicle there are always options. I did need to take the bus out of town to reach the place, but everything I'd seen said it would be worth it.

The place was called 'Power Motor Approval' and was probably the biggest used vehicle dealership within travel distance of the city. I use biggest in the literal sense, not in terms of grandeur or success. The lot had a spill over area onto surrounding plots and fields that was honestly shocking in scope. I'm not convinced the place actually owned any of the land their cars had flowed onto, but this was another one of Brockton's depressed areas. If anyone actually owned these properties they weren't under any illusions about their value. I imagine that during the city's industrial boom this place was probably a lot more reputable and had close ties with the now ruined industrial estates that surrounded it. At the moment it was more a motor graveyard than a dealership, and probably only a zoning decision away from counting as a junkyard.

This place was also a wonderland for tinkers. There was an ongoing feel of 'what I could do with this' that pervaded the entire place. It was like a scrap pile except everything was still technically functional. It may have been paranoia, but I wondered if they kept an eye out for anyone showing tinkerish behavior to tip off the PRT. Well, that was the best case scenario. Worst case the Empire or one of the other gangs. Hell, I wouldn't put it past some people to try to grab and sell an unequipped tinker to any number of organizations. There were some chilling rumors about the Fallen and how some of the cells shored up their membership.

The bikes were off to the side and made up less than five percent of the lot's stock. I skipped right past the nicer models that were going for over ten grand and headed straight to the bikes that were stacked like cordwood. This was where I would find my bike. Going deep enough into the pile started showing bikes with stickers under two thousand, and for good reason. A cursory inspection could find a plethora of problems with all of them, and not just excessive mileage.

It didn't take long to attract a sales person, and it also didn't take long for him to realize he was badly out of his depth. He left to get a more experienced sales person, who switched out for an even more senior salesman, who brought a junior mechanic to tag along, who then passed me up the chain two more times until I was talking with their head mechanic and a member of the sales staff who had been with the company since the 80s.

It wasn't anything cool. I wasn't being incredibly charming, or threatening to expose some scam they were pulling, though I wouldn't be surprised if there was something like that going on with some of the cars here. The thing is I'm generally not great with people and conversations make me uncomfortable. There's one exception to that. If it's a technical discussion I can go on for hours with no problem. It's a trait that served me well in college. Really, that's all that was happening here. They easily bought my cover story about being an engineering student and needing a vehicle on a tight budget, also with a partial rebuild in the cards. When the stuff I was asking became too technical for the person I was talking to I got passed up the ladder. I don't think they had any illusions about getting a serious commission out of me, and if it wasn't a slow Friday morning they would likely have had better things to do, but as it stood I spent a chunk of the morning discussing technical specs, changes in engine design over the years, and maintenance strategies with two professionals who probably spent most of their time convincing people that 'yes, the engine is in fact supposed to sound like that'.

I wish I could say I'd gotten some killer deal, or that they'd thrown in some extra parts after I smooth-talked them. No, at the end of the day they were professionals and I was just a slightly interesting client. I got a 'functional' motorcycle with registration, helmet, and the minimum level of insurance necessary, but still paid more than the thing was worth. There was probably some amusement in the fact that I knew exactly how bad a deal I was getting, which likely saved me from being completely raked over the coals.

The bike I ended up with wasn't truly terrible, but it was probably the last thing I thought I would end up with. It had a good deal of mileage and the bodywork wasn't in great condition, but those weren't the main issues. The big problem was that it was a Japanese motorcycle.

Since Leviathan hit Kyushu the Japanese motor industry had been in shambles. There were still some companies in business, but they were shadows of their former selves. Mostly they opened branch manufacturing facilities in places like Indonesia, Thailand, or Malaysia. Those facilities had little to none of the quality the parent companies were known for and the parts that came out of them were jokes. Keeping any Japanese vehicle operational was an exercise in frustration, and that was for cars with major dealerships. For motorcycles they were basically on a death march. Even enthusiasts couldn't keep them going and switched over to other manufacturers. The lucky ones were bought out by American or European companies that started putting out decent replacement parts and even the occasional new model.

Suzuki was not one of the lucky ones.

The motorcycle I rode out of the Power Motor Approval lot had been patched together with some of the cheapest and most slipshod parts south Asia could churn out. Everyone who knew anything about bikes wouldn't be caught dead on this thing, and if I wasn't planning to rebuild it from the ground up I would never have stooped to make the purchase. Still, with my mechanical knowledge I might be able to turn a Suzuki GSX-R 750 into something other than an embarrassment.

The bike got me back to the city, but I could pick up on every problem it had over the course of the drive. I couldn't think of any part of it that was in good enough condition to leave as is. Also, like the automatic transmission on the van I was essentially leveraging mechanical knowledge in place of vehicle operation skill. It wasn't the smoothest or most stable ride, but then again I wasn't exactly street racing. Cautious turns and moderate speed got me within a few blocks of my apartment without any hiccups.

As I looked for a way to get my bike into my workshop I felt the forge move again. It was the Alchemy constellation and my power latched to a tiny mote. The oddly named ability was called Kazooie Alchemy.

It let me make potions.

This was a fundamentally exciting concept. All of my alchemy so far had been closer to casting spells with material components than creating elixirs for later use. This ability addressed that disparity. With it I could brew and create actual potions. I was getting over how supernatural a lot of my powers seemed to be. When you had possessed gloves making clothes for you in your secret expanding closet drawing the line at potion brewing seemed kind of arbitrary.

The potions weren't difficult to make. The ingredients were mundane and fairly inexpensive. With nothing but a pot and a heat source I could brew one in about an hour. A professional laboratory set up would help me cut down on that time and potentially boost the quality, but it wasn't essential to production.

Unfortunately I could only make three types of potions. Their effects would last a few minutes at most and mixing them was a horrible idea. Also the potions would only affect me, there was an element of the ability that made them chemical messes for anyone else who tried to drink them. Still, the three effects I could create were seriously powerful.

The first and least noteworthy was an invisibility potion. Totally undetectable by sight until the potion wore off or I took some damage, which would dispel the effect. Other than that it was perfect invisibility, stranger powers in a bottle.

The second effect generated a type of shielding that completely negated damage. This would be colossally significant if I didn't have an alchemy formula that did basically the same thing for a shorter period. Still, this was total, walk up to Behemoth and say give me your best shot invincibility.

It still didn't excite me as much as the third potion I could now make. With that mixture I would be able to generate two copies of myself. They would only last a few minutes or until they took a hit and I didn't have any link to them after creation, but they did have all the equipment I was carrying. With one minor ability I had gotten the power to beat Oni Lee and Bakuda at their own game. The significance of what I could manage with this cannot be understated.

I was going to make so many missiles.

I just needed a place I could brew them inconspicuously. They might not need expensive chemicals, but the brewing process would produce copious amounts of colorful smoke and a smell like a chemical spill in an aroma therapy center. My workshop didn't have anything close to the ventilation needs to handle this and trying it in my kitchenette would bring the police or PRT to my door in short order.

It was much too powerful to let that stop me. Brockton had an abundance of abandoned buildings. It looked like I would finally have to set up a real world lab. It was bound to happen eventually, but I can't help but feel a little disappointed in myself.

Finding a location for brewing would be a problem for later. I found an out of the way alley that I could pull into and started to figure out how to get this thing into my workshop. Unfortunately that would have to go through my entryway, which meant squeezing the bike past everything I'd stored there each time I wanted to store or deploy it. It wasn't exactly set up for dramatic launches onto the street, but being able to always have access to my bike was worth the inconvenience.

I did find a larger door that made accessing the entryway less of a trial. One thing I had learned was that the main door scaled to whatever size I used to access it. Any size door. I tried it on a cubby locker once and got a roughly one foot square entrance to my workshop.

As I opened the large loading door to access my workshop I was understandably surprised to be greeted by the shape of a woman in evening wear. I say shape because there wasn't actually a woman there. The gloves had apparently made a red evening dress and were suspending it between them with their telekinesis in a manner that made it look like it and the gloves were actually being worn by an invisible woman.

Once I got over my shock I realized it was actually a lot less distracting than seeing disembodied gloves flying around. The dress was arranged so it was 'sitting' at my desk chair and turned to face me as I entered. The simulated body movement also helped the gloves emote, which was a serious benefit.

"Oh, uh, hi?"

The gloves waved in greetings.

"Nice dress?"

They rose in a way that made it looked like they were standing up. The illusion was perfect and if I didn't know how their powers worked I would have thought it was an invisible person standing before me. They 'stepped' forward and twirled to show off the dress. They had even made shoes for themselves and were managing them as well as any other aspect of the outfit.

Something occurred to me. "Sorry if this is rude, but are you female?"

The gloves made a gesture to where their pelvis would be, then an irreverent gesture that seemed vaguely positive.

"It doesn't matter, but sure?" I guessed at a translation.

There was an excited response and an enthusiastic gesture towards the dress, and a dismissive one to a suit hanging on the wall.

"Female because women's clothes are better?"

Again enthusiasm from them, or I guess that should be 'her', if that's what she wanted.

"So what should I call you? The ability that brought you here, or created you, or whatever is called Garment Gloves..."

There was an excited snap.

"You want that as your name?"

More expressions of positivity.

"So Garment?"

There was a happy gesture.

"Right, ok Garment. I need to get this bike into the workshop."

She leaned around me in a way that a normal human would, 'looked' at the bike, then reacted with horror. In a flurry of motion various items of clothing floated off surfaces to places as far from the path I'd have to take as possible. It ended with her 'standing' on the chair and making shoeing gestures as I wheeled the admittedly rusty and oil soaked machine through her workspace.

My metal workshop was largely untouched, but the components of the costume Garment had designed were laid out for assembly. It looked nearly finished and I wondered why she had left it like that.

Once the bike was settled in the center of the workspace I turned to see Garment at the door. "Do you need some help with that?" Given the level of skill on display from what she had thrown together I couldn't imagine what she would need me for.

What followed was a bunch of abstract gestures that I had a hard time deciphering. Eventually I got fed up and happened upon an idea. I got one of the spare laptops Tattletale had included with my supplies and booted it up. I loaded a word processor and set it in front of Garment.

It seemed that while Garment may have been a genius in terms of clothing they didn't include basic computer use in whatever skillset she'd been granted. She typed by hunting through the keyboard letter by letter with the speed of a glacier and the grace of a drunken sloth. Gradually a word appeared on the screen.

P...O...W...E...R...S

"You want to use my powers?" This brought on an excited flurry. It made sense, my Made to Last ability would make the clothing impervious to time and the elements. Making it in the workshop would let it repair itself in forty eight hours if it was ever damaged. My style abilities combined with her fashion sense and tailoring skill would produce a level of quality that dwarfed anything I could even imagine.

"How do you know about my powers?"

That merely got a shrug and a dismissive gesture. Well, that explained nothing. But I guess if she came from my powers it made sense that she would know about them. That was still bothering me. I had a sentient being confined to my workshop. I wasn't going to pretend this was something normal. I had to make sure she was happy with whatever this arrangement turned out to be.

"Look, Garment, I don't really get how you came here or what it means, but I want you to be ok. So what do you want?"

She made a contemplative gesture, then an exclamation followed by indications towards her dress and the half-finished costume.

"Clothes? You want to make clothes?"

The excitement was bubbling off her.

"Ok, I'll make sure you can make all the clothes you want."

That got a little hop of excitement.

"I need to move the entrance of the workshop before someone finds it. I'll see you back at the apartment."

She waved goodbye as I left and sealed the door behind me. As I started walking home something occurred to me. I didn't own a suit. In fact, I didn't recognize any of the clothes she had 'saved' from my bike. The duffle bag I used as a dresser was looking very flat and there had been a cardboard box in the corner with the word 'RAGS' scrawled on it.

Ok, I needed to have a word with her. I was going to have to put some limits on that promise before she dismantled everything I owned and I ended up drowning in formalwear.

Author's Note:

Updates are going to slow down a bit from this point on. I had a buffer of drafts ready when I started posting and this chapter brings me to the end of them. The story will continue, but not with daily updates. I'm going to shoot for two chapters a week.

The writing exercise that started this story worked by wordcount. Every 2000 words was worth 100 points and triggered a roll for a new power. The power is purchased if enough points have been accumulated to cover its cost. That's the meaning of the in story references to building reach and stronger and weaker motes. In the revision of my drafts the wordcount has expanded, so to accommodate this there will be a lot more powers coming in the next few chapters.

I wanted to thank everyone who provided feedback on this story as it really helped keep me motivated to continue writing and posting. I'm sorry to slow down the updates just as things are ramping up but I promise you there is more to come.

Jumpchain abilities this chapter:

Life Fiber Spool (Kill la Kill) 400:

A medium-sized spool of Life Fiber. It's only enough to maybe make a pair of gloves out of, but with the proper knowledge, one could create Goku Uniforms- Or enhance existing articles of clothing to be like Goku Uniforms. One spool of thread is enough to make several one-star outfits, three two-star outfits, or a single three-star outfit, assuming you have the knowledge of how to work with Life Fibers

Garment Gloves (Dodgeball) 200:

These are a pair of pure white gloves. Bound to them is an intelligence with a mind for fashion: a designer, seamstress, clothier, and tailor without mortal peer. It has the ability to scry for fashion based information from international trends to precise measurements. Given materials and orders, it will industriously produce fine apparel, producing any modifications, clothing, footwear, accessories, etc that is within theoretical mortal ability. It has sufficient telekinesis to move itself and to independently suspend materials. It must be provided with materials, though it may be provided a lump sum or budget with which to magically acquire materials at cost.

You may wear the gloves to channel the skills (but not powers) of the entity, perhaps even learning from it.

Alchemy (Banjo-Kazooie) 100:

You are incredibly capable at mixing together mundane ingredients to create effects that can only be described as magical. For a short time these potions can create temporary copies of you, turn you invisible, or give you shielding.