Greg Veder vs The World

Buff 3.12



Buff 3.12

Sunday

March 27, 2011

"Do it."

"Dude, are you sure about this?"

"Totally." Greg replied, rolling his shoulders in preparation. He was shirtless once again, exposing a defined torso with visible muscle growth.

"Mmmm, I don't think so, brah," Sparky's voice was hesitant, one hand scratching his head as he gave Greg a look. "Like, any other idea would be better than this, I think."

"Come on, Sparky," Greg sighed, "I need this. I'm pretty sure it'll work too."

"Pretty sure?" The disbelief in his friend's tone spiked, his voice almost sounding insulted.

"Just…" Greg shook himself, turning his back to Sparky, "just do it before I change my mind."

The two of them were back at Sparky's house again, specifically the teen's basement, Greg deciding to come over because his mom had picked up a Sunday shift again. With her gone, there wasn't much purpose at staying home alone by himself.

Especially when he could work out. So, Sparky's house it was.

Sparky shook his head, his lips tightly pressed together as he played with the object in his hands. Again and again, he turned it over, carefully avoiding the metallic tip as he spun it in his palm. "I feel like you should change your mind. Shit's gonna hurt, man."

Come on already. "And? It's worked before."

Sparky was silent for a moment before his voice lit up, far more enthusiastic than it had been a moment before. "Oh, that reminds me, you never told me what happened with you and Emma's dad."

Greg blinked, his face scrunched up in confusion. "Wait, how does that remind you of Emma's dad?"

"You know," Sparky hedged, his voice uncertain, "he has a job… working… I just connected them. Forget it, just tell me what happened."

"Sparky, I know what you're doing. Stop stalling." Gritting his teeth, Greg shut his eyes and crossed his arms, waiting for his friend to go ahead. After almost five seconds of waiting, he poked one eye open and let out a frustrated sigh. "Sparky, I don't have all day so just do it alr-eeeeggggggghhhh!"

-15

[Muscle Paralysis] Debuff applied

Unable to move for two seconds.

Greg let out a gargling screech as Sparky jabbed the object into his back, a wave of pain passing through his body as his muscles locked up and he heard a violent, angry buzzing noise. His legs gave out from under him and he dropped to the ground like a fallen tree, body twitching like a seizure patient.

Breathing heavily, he stared up at the gray ceiling of Sparky's unfinished basement, the plastic wrap they had laid out on the floor uncomfortable against his back. "MOTHERFUCK, THAT HURT!"

New Ability Gained!

Resistance: Electricity Lv 1

Everyone knows electrocution is harmless.

Increases resistance to electrical damage by 1% with every level from attacks less than 100% of your health. (1%)

"You good, brah?" His friend's face appeared at the side of his field of vision, standing above him like a giant. "I told you, this is a Striker-lite name-brand Taser. It's a self-defense taser, not some fake shit." Sparky clicked a button and a powerful beam of white light flooded his vision for a second. "It's also a super-strong flashlight."

"That's nice, but," Greg let out a pained laugh despite the fact that the pain was already dissipating, albeit a bit slower than usual. "If I say I'm not good, will you say I told you so?"

"Nah, man."

"Yay," Greg replied weakly.

Sparky dropped down, squatting to the side of his friend's downed body, eyebrow raised in a quizzical expression. "Just gonna call you a dumbass 'cause you obviously didn't know how a taser feels." Sparky held out a hand. "I'm honestly surprised your hair didn't get any spikier from that shock."

"Shut up." Greg let out a groan as he grabbed on to Sparky's hand, letting himself be pulled up. He was well aware that he would have to repeat this over and over until he felt like his new ability reached a high enough level. Still, did it have to hurt so much?

"How many charges does that thing have, anyway?"

"Dunno," Sparky shrugged. "I think, like fifty."

Greg threw his head back in a loud groan. "This is gonna hurt so frickin' much."

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

You have gained 2 VIT.

Electricity Resistance Level Up x 7

Sparky's punch slammed into his jaw with the force of a hammer, teeth rattling in his skull as his head snapped back.

-19

Greg would know, after all. He'd been well acquainted with all manner of blunt objects recently. Letting out a pained grunt, he took an involuntary step back, blinking away the pain just in time for Sparky to throw another one.

-24

He felt his nose crack, blood spraying from his nostrils in a spurt of red. A pained grunt burst from his lips as his hand flew to his face to clutch the organ and staunch the bleeding.

[Minimal Bleeding] Debuff applied

-1 HP every five seconds for the next minute.

Sparky had on a pair of brass knuckles,a gift his uncle had given him for his twelfth birthday. It had been so long since he'd thought about the weapon, the metal pieces almost entirely forgotten in his dresser.

Almost.

The cheap gold paint on them was stained with red, blood coating both his friend's gloved hands and the weapons he held in them. The first ten minutes had been the hardest, of course, Sparky not nearly as eager as Greg was to strike him with the weapons. It had taken a lot of needling and a hell of a lot of whining but the other teen finally gave in.

Even after that, the first sight of blood had been almost enough to get Sparky to throw in the towel but Greg's begging had been enough for him to grit his teeth and continue striking him. Although given the emphatic grunts coming from the covered up form of his friend, he had to wonder if Sparky wasn't enjoying hurting him at least a little.

Pain aside, grinding with Sparky was honestly much more fun than doing it alone and- Oh my god, that sounds so wrong. His thoughts about bad phrasing were interrupted by another frustrated punch by Sparky, his fist slamming into his torso again.

-16

The rounded metal knuckles undoubtedly increased the damage he did, Sparky's punches twice as powerful as they would be alone.

He'd have to ask Sparky to borrow them when this was over.

Greg grunted again as Sparky struck him hard in the gut, knocking the air from his lungs and sending him against the basement wall. Thirty minutes of constant pummeling had earned him 3 VIT points, and two levels in Blunt Force resistance, his HP kept from falling too low with frequent intakes of protein bars.

-17

He had wondered exactly why his VIT was jumping up so quickly when it would normally have taken him over twice the amount of time to get the same increase. Maybe because someone else was doing the damage and not him…

It was a possibility, Greg guessed, and the most likely one. Despite what he was thinking, he couldn't exactly voice his opinions, the only thing having left his mouth in the last half hour being spit, blood, grunts, and groans.

He had to give his friend props, though, with the way Sparky used the knuckledusters. It was impressive, his fists slamming into Greg's willing body over and over like he was auditioning for the part of Rocky Balboa. Does that make me Ivan Drago?

-14

-12

-14

As Sparky dealt him another damaging punch to the gut, Greg realized that wasn't a good comparison. No, with the way he was being smacked around, he was more like the slab of frozen meat Rocky trained with.

-16

You have gained 1 VIT.

Greg blinked through bleary eyes and raised his hands, waving frantically to ward off his friend.

"Dude!"

Halting mid-swing, Sparky took a step back. Raising his hands to his face, he pulled down the bandana around his nose and mouth while lifting the safety goggles to his forehead. "What, brah?"

His gasping voice betrayed his tiredness, the act of punching Greg for half an hour clearly far more strenuous for him that it was for the person being pummelled. The beads of sweat trailing down his face only confirmed it. "I thought… you said… two hours of this."

"Yeah, but I just hit twenty," Greg replied through a rapidly healing mouth, his voice still somewhat muffled as he spoke through bruises and swelling. "Twenty VIT. So, I think we're good on that. Let's take a break."

Sparky rolled his eyes, and pulled off one bloodstained glove and knuckleduster, letting it drop to the floor before repeating the action with another one. The blood-splattered safety goggles followed right after, landing on the plastic wrap without much of a sound. The last thing to hit the ground was a yellow raincoat with blood splatter all over it, joining the pile of macabre items.

"Nah, man," Sparky said, pointing a finger at Greg as the blond leaned against the wall, bruised body slowly healing before his friend's eyes. "Nah, I'm taking a break. You're taking a shower. You look like a fucking zombie," he muttered the last bit through clenched teeth.

Greg grinned through bloodstained teeth and gave his friend a thumbs-up. "Got it, Sparks."

The teen in question ran a hand through his hair before turning around and throwing his hands in the air as he headed for the stairs. "Fuckin' crazy capes."

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

-1

-2

-1

-3

-1

-1

-1

-1

-1

Ability Level Up

Heat Resistance Lv 5

"You have to respect anything that can just stand there, on fire"

Increases resistance to heat damage by 1% with every level from attacks less than 100% of your health. (5%)

You have gained 1 VIT.

"Awesome," Greg muttered, staring at the lighter in his grasp, slowly burning the bottom of his forearm. Hissing slightly, he let go of the lighter wheel, letting the flame die out and allowing the cold air to hit his arm. Despite the persistent pain that was taking a little longer to fade than usual, Greg couldn't help but be excited at how much improvement he had made today. "Sparky, I leveled it again!"

Tired eyes flicked up and gave the blond a bored stare.

Sparky sat opposite him on the kitchen island, chewing lazily on a microwave burrito. Greg idly noted that he didn't bother to make him one but he graciously let it slide.

"Am I supposed to care, brah?" He took another bite, grimacing slightly at what was probably an improperly heated piece of meat inside the bulging burrito. "Seriously, I don't get the hype."

Greg returned Sparky's bored stare with a disbelieving one. "How can you not care right now?" He waved the cheap lighter in his hand in the air, the flame itself extinguished. "I am literally becoming more fireproof as we speak. When I get this to 100%, I will literally no-sell fire. Do you not get how awesome that is?"

Sparky raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-bite. "That's not that impressive, brah. You know what is impressive?"

Greg dropped the lighter and laid his arm flat on the kitchen island, letting out a low hiss as the burned skin of his under-arm touched the polished marble surface. "What?"

"How much blood you have in your body. That's really fuckin' impressive, right there." He paused, grimacing again. "Like, I probably got a fifth or a quarter of the blood in your body on that plastic wrap in the basement right now."

Greg nodded, smiling as he remembered his own grinding sessions. "Yeah, it can be like that," he elevated his eyebrows as he turned in his stool to better face his friend.

"It can be like that?" Sparky leaned over. He dropped his burrito heavily on the plastic plate he was eating off of, ignoring the splatter of beans and beef that erupted from it. "It can be like that? Really, brah?" Tan hands slammed onto the table, sending his plate to the edge of the island, in danger of falling over.

Greg's eyes went to the plate, glancing at it and back to Sparky repeatedly. "Uhh… your… your plate?"

"Ignore the plate, brah."

"I just… uhh," Greg gestured at the plate again, trying to direct his friend's attention to it's precarious position. "That's… uhh… what is that? An El Monterey burrito? Those things are huge. It'll make a huge mess if it falls."

"Make a huge mess?" Sparky sat back on his stool, his body slumping against the island's surface. "You just don't get it, do you?"

Get what, exactly? Greg blinked. "I mean, not to say that I don't get you're talking about," he lied, "but… uh, these floors are like what? Maple plank? Red oak? I'm thinking cherry wood, maybe Brazilian cherry. You don't want to risk stains on that. It's quality wood."

Sparky held up his hands, signalling for Greg to stop talking before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. After a moment, he opened them again and fixed his friend with another tired look. "First of all, it is Brazilian Cherry. Second, how the fuck do you know that? And third, how often do you bleed yourself like that 'cause that ain't healthy, cuz."

"Oh, I uh," Greg shrugged, a wistful smile on his face, "I helped my mom redesign our kitchen when my dad was still around. We used to watch a lot of HGTV together too."

Sparky stared at him as he finished, waiting for him to continue.

Greg stared back.

After a few seconds, Sparky's mouth dropped open slightly. "Did you forget I asked you other stuff?"

"Oh," Greg blinked, shrugging again. "I thought that was a rhetorical question. The most I could've done it is seven times, you know. This is literally the one-week anniversary of me having powers."

Sparky's dry look was one for the record books. "Mazel Tov."

"Oh, yeah, you're like a quarter Jewish, aren't you?" Greg exclaimed, pointing at Sparky. Instead of answering, Sparky set his jaw tightly, narrowing his eyes as Greg unwittingly danced around the question again. "Fine, yeesh. Just messing around."

"Answer the question, dumbass."

"Well, uh," Greg clicked his tongue, tapping his fingers on the marble surface. "I've done it like maybe four times, I think," He held up four fingers. "First time was the tree punching, made my knuckles bleed. Second, I think was using a hammer on my hand until there was like blood everywhere. Cleaned that up with newspapers. Third was a huge wrench that I still have in my inventory. Fourth was a knife. Leveled up my piercing and stabbing resistance pretty good with that baby."

Sparky's mouth opened and closed several times before he just sighed. "You sound so fuckin' happy about it."

"Well, yeah, level ups always feel good. Even better when it's real, I guess," Greg shrugged, his hand inching toward Sparky's burrito.

"Even better when it's real," Sparky mocked, sneering slightly. Spotting Greg reaching for his food, he slapped the blond's hand away "You're gonna make me kill you one day, you know."

"So you were gonna eat that burrito, then? Could have told me," Greg pouted, dropping his cheek onto his upraised palm. "I don't get what the big deal is. You're kinda acting weird right now."

"I'm acting weird. I'm acting weird?Have you seen my basement?"

"I bet you're glad I came prepared with the plastic wrap, huh?" Greg replied to his friend's question with a smirk and a question of his own. "Huh?"

"Not funny."

"A little funny?" the blonde offered, putting his thumb and forefinger together.

"No," Sparky snapped, his face serious, "I cleaned it up while you were playing with that fuckin' lighter. It was literally goddamn American Psycho in there, brah."

"Oh, like the raincoat scene?" Greg asked, smile vanishing for a moment.

"Yes! The raincoat scene!" Sparky's voice was a low hiss at this point, his eyes uncharacteristically wide as he slapped a hand on the counter. "I literally wore a fuckin' raincoat 'cause your blood was everywhere and you're just okay with this?"

"Mmm," Greg vocalized, tilting his head to the side, "To be fair, Hip to Be Square wasn't playing and you didn't have an axe so… not the best recreation."

"I swear to god, Greg..." A palm went to his head and he seemed to droop where he sat.

"Relax, Sparky, it's not that bad. Honestly, using knives gets way more blood everywhere. It honestly looked like The Shining in my basement, sometimes. Oxidized bleach will get rid of any stains, in case you're worried."

"The m-mess? You think this is about the…" For a moment, Sparky just stared at his friend, his tired and exasperated expression shifting to one of dawning realization. A moment later, a weak smile replaced it. "You're right, brah. Forget the mess, it's already clean. No big deal. right?"

"Thank you," Greg nodded, grinning brightly. "That's what I've been trying to say. No big deal."

"Yeah, no big deal," Sparky's smile twitched slightly. "How about we take a break for a bit? Hook up my laptop to the tv and watch some anime. I can order some pizza or something."

Greg frowned, tilting his head. "I guess, if you want. I honestly haven't been bothered in like a week."

Sparky nodded slowly, as if confirming something he had already guessed. "Let me guess, since you got your powers?"

Greg nodded along with him, albeit much faster. "Yeah, I guess. Just kinda been busy." Even his mom had noticed that too, although she only mentioned it a couple times.

A sound like a mix between a laugh and a long, drawn-out sigh came from Sparky's mouth. "Yeah, probably." A smile appeared on his face again without warning, confusing Greg slightly until his friend spoke. "So, what do you wanna watch? I downloaded the second version of that Fate anime they got on Aleph, all the episodes too."

"C'mon, dude," Greg snorted, already forgetting about the previous topic, "How late do you think I am? I watched that last month. What else you got?"

"I got the prequel to Fate, too."

"Awesome! I didn't check that out yet," Greg grinned, laughing out loud as he hopped off the kitchen stool. "What are we waiting for?"

Spoiler: STATUS


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