Downtime

I awoke with a groan, cracking my back and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My Paranoia made sleeping difficult -being able to watch the flies and maggots crawl around my insides never became less distracting- and I’d noticed I’d begun to dream in third person sometimes. I'm sure that had some sort of implications about my mental health, but decades of experience made shrugging off such thoughts simple enough

I took another long shower, sitting silently under the water for nearly half an hour before deciding to actually properly wake up and face the day. A quick blitz through what basic hygiene care was available preceded me throwing on my slightly blood stained cloak, the smell of smoke and mold seeming to have soaked into the fabric just as much as blood and dirty water had yesterday; I'd have to see about getting it cleaned, and perhaps inquire after some spares. I fixed my bandana around my neck and headed out the door, my nose and memories carrying me towards the cafeteria.

I'd have liked to start off my day by immediately spending my points and training to handle the changes they would bring, but hunger cannot be easily ignored when a simple solution is nearby; besides, I knew better than to attempt any strenuous training on an empty stomach.

I wasn't actually all that familiar with the path from my room to the cafeteria -Rokharth had usually kept me busy enough I either ate in the training room or the medical ward- but I did know enough about the building's general layout to not be worried about taking a more meandering route. I vaguely followed the smell of food and drug use towards the mess hall, but came to a slow stop when my wandering led me to a small hallway lined entirely with wide windows on one side.

While I was unwilling to make myself an easy target to any opportunistic snipers that may or may not be lurking about by actually approaching the windows, I nonetheless found myself staring out at the bleak city I'd found myself living in from near the back wall. I was on the fourth floor of the hospital, allowing me to look over top of the mostly shorter buildings around us; while some standout structures towered over their surroundings and blocked my line of sight, most of the buildings were only two to three stories tall, allowing me to see all the way to the horizon.

Well, it would have, if the city didn’t have massive walls towering hundreds or perhaps even thousands of feet in the air, turning the skyline a grime stained grey-brown. Somehow, looking upon those towering walls that scraped the clouds, I felt decidedly less safe than I had before; not because of the walls themselves, though they undoubtedly could be used in hostile ways, but due to the implication of them. Someone, some time ago, felt the need to construct walls that large despite the difficulties associated with such a large scale project without the kind of equipment we’d have back home (though, I couldn't dismiss the possibility that magic could have made it actually easier to accomplish); that meant there was something worth having titanic towering walls to keep out (while they could have been made to keep people in, that seemed marginally less likely to me; a much shorter wall would have achieved that goal much easier, after all).

I didn't like thinking about the kind of things those walls were built in response to. Sure, mortal armies were undoubtedly a factor (I highly doubt humans have become any less bloodthirsty and aggressive in a world like this, let alone any other sapient races), but something tells me it wasn't mere men that inspired such constructs. I shook my head, trying to put thoughts of sky scraping monstrosities out of my mind and turning to continue on my way with slightly greater speed.

The cafeteria was located on the ground floor, making the fire pits dug into the center of the room actually possible to create without just punching a hole into the floor below; though, I could only imagine how they got around the issue of the basement, presuming this place had one. Even despite three ceilings and many doors separating my room (and the random hall I found myself in) from the cafeteria, the smell of smoke and faint hints of cooking food seemed to permeate the entire facility; given the smell never wavered no matter the hour, it seemed the place was a none stop cookout all day and night. I had no idea where we got the resources to have food cooking at all hours, but it was a nice way to both flex the faction's wealth and keep the people happy; filling a starving man's belly is an easy way to make them positively inclined towards you, after all.

My journey passed by unmolested, the few people I ran into along the way just gave me a nod or flashed some of the gang’s signs at me and moved on with their lives; they all had somewhere better to be and someone they’d rather talk to, none of them cared enough to question me and delay either goal. Besides, it's not like I was particularly out of place; despite my apparently verboten race, I was wearing the gang's colours so I obviously belonged.

That was a massive, blaring security flaw in my eyes, but it was to my advantage at the moment so I merely mentally noted the issue and then mostly ignored it. I also couldn't dismiss the likelihood that people simply recognized me; despite being antisocial and having spent the vast majority of my time here either training or in the medbay, doubtless many people had seen me in passing even if they had been absent from my initiation.

I put the minor manner from my mind as I entered the cafeteria, sweeping my eyes over the place briefly before heading towards the buffet. My entrance earned only a few bored glances from a handful of the people eating within, though I felt each pair of eyes on my skin like blazing spotlights for the brief moment they trailed over me. My instincts murmured at me from a primal part of my mind, a primordial dislike for having eyes on me that crept into the back of my thoughts; doubtless my own experiences relying on stealth to survive only bolstered what felt like a species deep instinct to avoid attention. It was an annoying feeling, but nothing debilitating.

Shrugging off the minor discomfort, I quietly grabbed two plates, shoveled them both high with food, and headed for an empty table in a dimly lit corner. Even as I ate, I attempted to train in idle, unstressful ways. Alongside the towering piles of food on my plates, I had taken a small side bowl of soup and set it off to the side; while I continued to eat my food, I attempted to will the flies within me to retrieve tiny amounts of soup and deposit them in my stomach. My attempts met limited results at first, but I could feel several flies change their course to investigate the soup.

As I was playing with my flies, Baldy from earlier sat down across from me. I blinked, attempting to keep a wary look from my face as I eyed him up. Evidently he saw right through my veiled disinterest, given the wry grin that stretched across his weathered face, "Looking for hard feelin's? Don' worry 'bout it; far as I'm concerned, it's a damn miracle any of us got out of that clusterfuck alive."

He took a long swig of whatever was in his cup, swirling it between his teeth for a moment before he actually swallowed and kept talking. "Sure, ya led us into an ambush, but you also managed to get way more of us out alive than we ever would expect in an attack like that. A conflict with an enemy Lieutenant with a hundred men as back up? Nah, we'd all have been dead if ya didn't pull whatever black magic bullshit ya whipped out there." He took a chunk out of a chicken wing with crooked and slightly yellowed teeth, "Some of the boy's what lost friends might not be too happy with ya, but as far as I care ya got me outta that quagmire alive, and that's more than I expected of ya."

I took the backhanded compliment with only a slow blink of the eyes, ignoring the low confidence this random mook had in me; if I were him, I wouldn't have had much confidence in a rookie leader a quarter my height either. He seemed sincere in his lack of grudge over his near death experience, but appearances meant very little to me; I had known men who could smile in your face like the sun shone out of their throats, all the while fully intent on savagely murdering you for any number of reasons. Trust was not something I was willing to hand out over something as petty as a sincere look, even for something as minor as one claiming not to hold a grudge.

I decided that sitting in my presence this long was reason enough to Observe this particular random thug.

Name: Alten "Baldy" Barsozhci

Race: Human

Main Title: Burnpike Enforcer

Level: 28

Hp: 478/590

Sp: 631/742

Mp: 143/143

Main Trait: Kneebreaker: He instinctively knows exactly the right force and angle needed to shatter one's joints with a single blow.

Nothing in his description was particularly concerning, yet I refused to drop my guard nonetheless. Despite my suspicions, I simply gave the man a thoughtful nod and continued eating. He remained silent for a while, smile twitching slightly as he seemed to be waiting for me to say something. After chewing my food in silence for a few long moments, I decided to favour the shiny headed man with a response, “I’m still not sure why that archer bastard ambushed us like that, but you can rest easy knowing the son of a bitch died crying.” I didn’t feel the need to tell him the archer had been crying before my flies ate his eyes.

Baldy chuckled, slamming a fist down on the table hard enough to make the food on our plates bounce as he devolved into full blown chest wracking laughter. I didn’t need to physically glance around to tell that his outburst had caught the attention of several people throughout the cafeteria, but most dismissed his laughter after a few seconds. It took him half a minute to calm down and collect himself enough to speak, “Ya know somethin’? That really does make me feel better.”

He leaned back in his seat, finishing the dark brown fluid in his glass off in one large gulp before slamming his cup down. I continued eating quietly as the thug’s head lolled back over the headrest of his chair, his eyes seeming unfocused as he stared blankly at the smoky ceiling far above us. A few times, he glanced towards me and opened his mouth as if he intended to say something, but each time he would simply sigh and resume staring upwards instead. He left halfway through my meal, with a quiet and somber sounding farewell as his only parting words.

I acknowledged his departure with a brief wave and a nod, putting the part of my focus dedicated to monitoring the man for signs of imminent hostility back to trying to influence the flies buzzing around me as I slowly finished off my large meal. With my immediate needs fulfilled and a more than slightly awkward encounter behind me, I busked my plates and set off to train… and more importantly, to spend the points burning a hole in my metaphorical pockets.

My journey to the designated training area was quick and uneventful; I knew where I needed to go well enough that, with some help from my tunnel senses, I easily made my way there without incident. My path did cross more windows than I would have liked, but aside from glancing out at what passed for civilians in this city sector shuffling around crumbling buildings and sprawling tent cities, I ignored the dismaying view.

Finally I was where I wanted to be since the day started; alone, standing in an empty training room. I didn’t bother lighting any candles or torches so the fully wood paneled room was pitch black, though such things mattered little to me. This particular training room was rather generic, no waterfalls of oil or even more conventional heavy training equipment; the only thing of note was a small pile of unused but well maintained padded clubs, likely for sparring.

I left the sticks to their surprisingly not dusty corner, focusing on my skills and traits. My training under Rokharth had been blunt, simple, and utilitarian; he taught me what was required for my intended role, and nothing else. I had not had time to explore my own abilities beyond the scope of his explicit regiment, even if I had any interest in openly displaying my abilities (not that I could confirm there weren't some sort of archanotech cameras or something watching me, much to my unavoidable concern; not to mention I knew for certain the creepy little doorman had some means of awareness over anything that happens in the building). This was the first time I didn't have a pressing need to do something, and I decided to use it to safely spend my points and get a better grasp on my abilities.

I set up a clock in the far left corner, making good on my earlier intent to learn exactly how long using points renders me effectively helpless. This kind of knowledge could be extremely useful in the future, in case I ever desperately needed to use points in a fight or unstable situation. To establish a baseline, I added a single point to Endurance; it was a stat I was very familiar with and one that altered my entire body, making it a decent choice despite it being my highest stat already.

My nerves twitched as phantom fire played along them, my body remembering and longing for that burning pleasure only leveling brings even as it faded. Unfortunately, the burning pleasure only lasted a moment, like a phantom kiss of white fire to my every cell that was gone almost before I felt it. The teasing touch of unearthly delight sent shivers up my spine, but as much as I would have loved to sit back and revel in the embers, my remaining points spun a symphony of ecstasy and blazing white lightning I simply couldn’t ignore any longer. A glance at the clock showed me I hadn’t lost any noticeable time, so I proceeded with my plans.

It only took a brief moment for me to decide to bring all of my stats up to a baseline of one hundred. While I partially did this just for the sheer ecstasy of gaining the varied changes it would bring, my greater motivation was the pragmatic thought that gaining Traits was the most valuable thing I can do with the points I have. Bones Of Mist did more to keep my spine from shattering than the raw points in Endurance alone would have managed, thus gaining more Traits is a better use for my points than spiking one or two Stats without hitting any benchmarks with them.

For attaining one hundred Wisdom, you have gained the Trait: Predatory Instincts

For attaining one hundred Intelligence, you have gained the Trait: Quick Thinking

Blazing pleasure so intense my thoughts simply boiled away ripped through me as every cell in my body burned with white hot ecstasy. It wasn’t anywhere near as fierce a blaze as when I desperately pumped a full thousand points into Endurance, but the burning pleasure still left me panting on the ground when I finally finished writhing under electric euphoria. A bleary glance at the distant clock showed a little under ten minutes had passed, though I wasn’t sure how much of that time was spent on simply gasping for breath once the alabaster flame settled down and the joy ride came to an end.

I briefly glanced at my new Traits before deciding to leave experimenting with them until after my current project. So far it gave me an alright baseline for a start, but I’d need much more thorough testing to be sure; at the very least, getting a time of around ten minutes for one hundred and fifty points told me it wasn’t as simple as a one to one time to points conversion. I wasn’t sure if which stats I used had an influence either, as while they did have different effects on the body I didn’t know if they had different durations.

Fortunately, I was simply flush with points just begging to be spent; I’d make sure to test each and every hypothesis very thoroughly. For science, of course.