Turn 3

--- Maya ---

Sick of the fact that she had so many half-finished programs and upgrades lying around, she decided to devote her morning to trying to finish up and clear out some of her programs. And given how it was currently her most important program, she’d decided to start by finishing out both of the upgrades for her Generator () program.

(Please tell me this time we aren’t just going to gut the program and hope for the best.)

“No.” -(Aww…)- “This time we’re going to patch over everything we messed with last time, to make sure nothing is broken.”

(Nothing would be broken if you hadn’t gutted the program.)

“But nothing would be improved either, I mean look here.” She tapped on several windows open on her computer. “We now have a full fifty percent increase in our power production!”

(And we’re looking at a two hundred percent increase in our chances of being electrocuted.) Her voice of reason tried to remind her.

“Meh, it’s worth it.” She argued dismissively.

(We’re gambling high-risk, high reward, baby!)

“See she gets it!” She cheered enthusiastically.

(You’re both going to be the literal death of me…) Her inner reason groaned.

(But we’re not suicidal…) Her inner child pointed out.

---

Deciding it was the ideal time for a break, now that she’d finished half of her Software work in a single session, she headed downstairs to the kitchen to try and find something for lunch.

Once in the kitchen though, her attention was captured by her elder sister Viviana typing away on her computer while referencing a book sitting on the kitchen table.

(Must be doing her college work…) Her inner logic reasoned.

(Ugh, that sucks!)

(Yeah, at least we still get summer vacation.)

Even if said vacation was spent being kidnapped and working on a number of inventions and programs that would kill her in a fiery explosion, should she screw up.

(Hey, I enjoy working on my stuff!)

(And I like explosions!)

Glancing at the kitchen clock, she noted how it was just an hour past noon.

(Eh, I’ve got time. Maybe I can help her with whatever she’s got going on.)

(Smart sibling to the rescue!)

(I don’t think we’re going to be as much help as we want to be.)

“Nonsense we’re brilliant.” She dismissed that thought as nonsense.

“Huh?” Vi looked up from her work. “What did you say, My?”

“Oh, uh,” She blinked before coughing into her hand. “I wanted to see if you needed any help with your homework.”

Vi gave her a snort of amusement. “I’m not sure you’ll get all of this.”

Maya waved her sister off. “I’m a genius, how hard can it be?”

“Deviant psychology.” Vi told her with a smirk. “If it was math or physics then maybe you could help, but…”

“I’m sure I can still help with… this.” She argued, gesturing to the book on the table as she took a seat. (After all I am a Deviant myself.)

“Alright, how about a test question then?” Her sister asked, deciding to humor her. “What are the seven primary Deviancies?”

“Oh, um… M.A.D.s, Arcane, Psychics, Deadmen, Wonderlanders, Slashers, and…” She reached around her head before guessing, “Punks?”

“Ah, and you were so close.” Vi winced before smiling. “The last one is Malcontent. Punks are made by M.A.D.s so they’re not technically Deviants.”

“Right…” She frowned, as she remembered that little bit of information.

(Ooh, we should make out own Cyber-Punk!)

(First, we have to find someone willing to let us perform surgery on them.)

(This is a bad idea in general.)

Deciding to put a pin in that idea for after she has a decent foundation, she decided to ask, “So, uh, what exactly does this class cover?”

“Mostly the little ways Deviants differ from regular people.” Vi explained.

She couldn’t help but frown at the way that sounded. “But aren’t Deviants regular people still?”

“Well, yeah.” Vi agreed, thankfully clearing any possibilities of her being prejudiced against Deviants, which Maya was. “The thing is their powers have these subtle little influences on the way they think.”

“Like how M.A.D.s are supposed to be crazy?”

(Which we aren’t!) Assured the voice in her head.

“Sort of, it’s more about how like M.A.D.s are curious to the point of having almost no survival instincts when working on their projects.” Vi tried to elaborate.

(I prove that theory wrong!)

(And I prove it right! Heh-heh-heh!)

“Or how Slashers are compelled to violence, or how Deadmen have these obsessions controlling them. The class is all about things like that.” Vi continued, happy to show off what she knows to her genius little sister.

“Huh…” (If Deviant psychology really is different from normal people, then maybe that’s something we should look into…)

Still that was a plan for later, for now it was time for lunch.

“Hey, have you already eaten?” She asked, moving back to her original task.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Vi nodded, as she went back to her work. The tendency towards single-mindedness apparent in all of the Williams children in some way or fashion.

---

Getting back to her desk and resuming her own work she began picking out choice pieces of metal and circuitry and piecing them together.

She’d finally realized, that if someone was out to get her –(which my kidnapping proves is the case)- then she needed a way to physically protect herself. Because while her AI was a useful little minion capable of gathering information and manipulating gang members, it sadly wasn’t very useful if they realized they were being played.

Thus, came into being her new project, a weapon intended to defend herself.

Now ideally this would be a weapon with a fair amount of range so that she could pick off her attackers at a distance. Unfortunately, this was her first attempt to actually use her COMP’s power to influence the world in a meaningful way.

(What about that thing with the exploding phone?)

(If I had my own eyes I’d be rolling them right now…)

And as such, the device she was crafting would only be able to send out a burst of energy a short distance away from her, making it better as a melee weapon than as an actual firearm.

“As long as it does it’s job, then I’m not complaining.” She told herself, as she continued typing out the program that would manage the power transfer between her COMP and her newly made Hand Cannon (Mk. 1). Ensuring that the former of the two wouldn’t cause the latter to explode while it was still attached to her hand.

(But then we could get a robot arm!)

She paused at that thought before shaking her head. “Uh, let’s not take the mad scientist thing that far, alright?”

(Boo! Coward!)

Ignoring the jeers of her inner crazy, she picked up the Hand Cannon (Mk. 1). A handheld machine that was essentially a bulky metal ring she could wrap around her palm, with a switch on the side for her thumb, and a second forward facing ring on her palm. It wasn’t necessarily pretty given how various wire and metal bits stuck out at odd angles, but once plugged into her COMP it would allow her to throw out short bursts of energy from her hand.

Deciding that the metal was cool enough to begin testing, she loaded her newly defined ‘Blaster Protocols ()’ onto her COMP-

(Actually, aren’t you skimping out on those a bit?) Her inner reason asked, having noticed just how sparse this program was compared to the rest.

“Eh, I just need it to transfer power into the cannon and let it rip on a manual trigger. Outside of managing the output it’s not that complicated.” She explained as if it were obvious, which to herself it probably was.

“You are me.” She pointed out plainly.

(The point stands.)

Rolling her eyes, she moved to put the Hand Cannon onto her, well, hand, only to pause as her survival instincts once more chimed in, proving their elder sister’s textbooks wrong.

(Before you do that, consider if we really should be putting the soon to be burning metal, directly upon our skin…)

She paused, before sneaking into Tommy’s room and stealing a pair of black fingerless gloves he’d gotten back when he’d been trying to figure out his ‘rocker look.’

(Should you really be stealing from your brother?)

(Meh, it’s not like he actually wears these.)

(Besides they make me feel cool.)

Mentally agreeing with her more childish self, she put the gloves on before slipping the hand cannon over it and flexing her hand to make sure it didn’t impede her motions too much.

Nodding to herself, she clinched her fist, waiting for the cannon to begin sparking, before thrusting her palm out sending a burst of electricity jumping through the air to fade a few steps away.

(Really glad that didn’t hit the wall…)

(Do it again! Do it again!)