That Salt Water Air
Added 2025-05-24 05:05:20 +0000 UTCShe pulled up in the same Jeep she had before it got wrecked in a crash back in my original universe. She fucking loved that car almost as much as she loved me. Emi was my favorite person, right in front of my girlfriend . . . who I’d also probably never see again either. Dammit, we were together for eight months too. She was fun as shit and super supportive . . . I let out a sight as my sister started screaming at me.
She really is the same person.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE- Yo what the hell happened to your leg?” The ponytailed brunette stepped out of the car and lifted me up with a grunt. Emi was the best. She then shoved me in the passenger seat and started driving off.
“Ow.” Not really sure what to say at this point.
“Explain or I kick your ass.” I pause at the threat. She totally would beat up an injured person by the way.
I think on it for a second and come to a conclusion. She’s my sister. I trust her. I don’t know if I can be fully honest but I can give her some information.
“I have powers now.” She nods before turning the radio up, heavy metal starting to blare into my ears.
“We will talk at home.” Her tone leaves no room for discussion, and while we’d normally argue like crazy I was just not in the mood today. She shifts the route she was taking from the large hospital I’d seen that she’d most likely worked at to taking us where I assumed was home.
My sister was a nurse in my previous life, and probably was here too. Her bedside manner could use some work though.
“How was work?”
“They ran Panacea dry. The usual shit.” I acknowledge the information with a small sigh. That sounds accurate at least. She’s always complaining about something or someone when it comes to work.
I suppose someone with superpowers is just part of the deal then. She sounds kind of worried about the healer though. It’s been a minute since I’ve engaged in any worm fanfiction but I remember her basically being the super depressed white mage.
If she’s the white mage and I’m the support caster . . . who the hell is the DPS? My mind flashes back to the Amber Guard before I shake my mind away from that. They will be remembered.
A fist lightly clenched as we pulled into the apartment parking lot. My sister worked long hours because our parents were deadbeats and we had to live on our own. She’d gotten emancipated and I did the same and now lived with her.
At least that’s how it was back in my previous world.
Emi picked me up and started taking me up the stairs before pulling us into our tiny apartment and locking the door behind me. She’d sat me on the couch and started working on taking care of my wound while she questioned me.
“Start from the beginning. What the fuck happened.”
“Woke up in class with powers. They work really weird though.” She keeps cleaning my leg as I let out a wince of pain.
“I have to enter these portals that other people can’t see. If I complete the tasks given to me I get stronger.” Her eyes widened at my explanation. I’d forgotten that people in Worm usually can’t get stronger with their powers.
“Presumably you had to fight something?” My eyes darken.
“Yes. Multiple people gave their lives to allow me to live.” Bellion, Sveet, and Cleaver. I wouldn’t forget those guys.
“Other people were there too?” I nod but reiterate.
“I was in another world. The people who lived there were fighting a rebellion against some genocidal guy.” I’ll be going back though. I’m going to fucking kill the Baron. I promised them, didn’t I?
“You don’t have to go back there, you know that right-” She stops speaking and sighs.
“I have the ‘expression’ don’t I?” She nods at my words.
When I'm overwhelmingly committed to something I get a freaky expression on my face, it looks like arrogance mixed with pride and hate along with disgust thrown in for good measure. I have to force myself from doing it when I’m in public, but currently I don’t have the mental capacity for holding it back.
“I’m going back. I’m going to prepare first though.” She lets out a grunt as she finishes tending my wound.
“Try not to die, I’ll patch you up the best I can.” My sister has always been supportive, mostly because she knows the ‘expression’ means I’m doing something whether she likes it or not.
From nothing I summon Geomancy: Earthen Bones and start reading.
“I’m heading to bed, don’t break anything or I’ll kick your ass.” With a nod my eyes turn down to the pages on my eyes narrow in confusion.
The principles it speaks of are terrain manipulation spells, and a few ‘offensive’ ones. This book feels like it's teaching me to be a civil engineer rather than a mage, this book is mostly about building codes and other garbage that is useless to me. I keep skimming through it until something catches my eye.
‘Amber Burst’ A spell that is mostly used for clearing an area of excess stone, or in some cases dead bodies of the Aavadri. The Aavidri being the name of the Amber people. This is an actual offensive spell, sort of like dynamite.
I mull it over while I narrow my eyes. I don’t understand this for shit. This is magic, and when I look deep inside myself I don’t have ‘mana’ but instead these weird flowing strings of power running around my body.
There’s a spindle in my brain that runs throughout my nervous system. I can intuitively sense its Jack of All Trades, the thread’s pure white color in nature alluding to its ability to change itself into my different skills. Then upon my tongue is a faint deluge of oranges and purples, Bardic Inspiration I presume.
Then where my heart is, rests a gray bundle of string. This thread has the ability to manifest ‘stories’ with my emotions as a catalyst. The problem is that it seems to be difficult, I can’t just manipulate reality. Emotions alone aren’t enough, something has to ground the story in reality.
My mind bends back to Sveet blowing their arm up, and their death shortly afterwards. My heart stirs in anger at the thought. The book tightly clutched in my hand as the grey thread that slowly turned into an amber sea.
I pull upon it, and I feel the yellowish threads leave my body and turn into a faint amber light. It hovers around me for a moment, beginning to be used. I resist its call and instead pull in within myself as I let out a small gasp.
That- that was Bardic Composition, the ability to turn ‘stories’ and ‘emotions’ into the mystery of the world. Or more accurately, into mana. The amber light was warm and I pulled upon it again as my gray thread started to run dry.
That’s a strange feeling for certain, to feel the spool slowly become undone. I put a hand against my chest as I let out a small breath of pain. I need to figure out how to manifest this power, I try to mimic the coding type magic in the book but it’s not working.
Instead I decided to shift to an easier spell. One of the first basic spells in the book, a spell named ‘Amber Pillar’ , was a simple pillar of Amber that was supposed to support something falling or to help keep a structure up. However it could be used to also slam into someone or used as a shield as the pillar was quite wide for a human. The pillar was about two feet thick in diameter, and wasn’t something that was supposed to be complicated.
Key word: Supposed. I was struggling with manifesting any physical amber, I’d keep trying to follow the book but there was a knowledge game that I was missing.
I’d paused and my expression twisted in sadness. The Amber Guard was dead, I might be the last person to ever use this book from their collection. My mind twists back and I slam my fist on the table in anguish then I feel a hum at the impact. The mana twisting around my hand at the emotional movement.
I shoot up as I come to a realization. I’ve been casting like a wizard, not like a bard. I’ve tried to study and channel my emotions in my heart. I needed to get physical, I needed to show the World this story!
I retreated from the little open area we’d had and instead to my room.
I didn’t cast spells, I weaved mana into legend. I walked into my room and spun on my heel, my hand waved through the air as I commanded the World to create. The World however needed power to do so my gray thread provided that.
A spiral of amber warped up from the ground, twisting together a tree formed. Its trunk was of ambery crystal, its soft leaves were a deeper brown in color. Its form bursted outwards and I was forced to calm it before it blew up my room.
Then I stared at it and I frowned. How do I get rid of this? My power pulled away and then it started to fade as though it hadn't existed at all. It seems that once its power supply is cut off the ‘story’ ceases to exist.
Weird. Pausing after the initial awe wore off I looked down over my body covered in sweat, blood, and grime.
Fuck I need to take a shower. Stepping into our only bathroom I started scrubbing away and peeling the disgusting mess off of myself. My leg hurt lightly as I tried to steady myself but I continued nonetheless. I decided to idly gaze over my status while I made myself clean again.
Name: Jackson Dubois
Class: Bard 3
STR: 11
DEX: 12
CON: 12
INT: 10
WIS: 11
CHR: 13
Skills:
Bardic Inspiration II
Jack of All Trades II
Bardic Composition I
Equipment:
[Geomancy: Earthen Bones]
[Silver Rake]
[Hood of the Hangman]
Claims:
Stone Breaker Hangman 2/6:
+Damage against Golems
+Rope Techniques
Summoning the Rake to my hand I got a proper look at it finally. It was a sort of trident tagger with small hooks at the end of each blade. It was weighty in my hand, but not heavy. Doing a few test swings it cut through the falling water with ease.
I softly press a fingertip into it and a drop of blood pops out instantly. I suck on my wounded finger for a moment as I stare at the supremely sharp claw dagger.
I then send it back to my inventory beforeI trip on my wounded leg and accidentally kill myself, that thing is stupidly sharp. Instead I just enjoy the hot water as I consider my current situation.
I remember this apartment. I’d lived in it with my sister until I could get my own place back in my previous world, but I hadn't lived anywhere near Brockton Bay, much less near the east coast at all.
After stepping out of the shower and throwing on some clothes I started reading through my flip phone and the date surprised me.
Friday January 21st, 2011. That specific date meant nothing to me except that the weekend was on the way. I’d read fanfiction about Worm a couple years back and if anything related to that date was important, I’d forgotten it. I did however remember the general details.
Taylor, a wannabe hero who was dangling on the edge and ready to fall.
Brockton Bay and its cesspool of a school Winslow High. Nazi’s, Asian gangsters with some stupid name I couldn’t remember, and tons of drug dealers part of some bigger group.
Endbringers, world ending monsters that were holding back.
Then the final piece of bad news: Scion was going to end the world if nothing changed. An outer god like entity with the creativity of a goldfish and missing its dead wife.
Then my mind remembered a small detail I’d forgotten. Cauldron. I narrowed my eyes at the thought of them and then I became confused. Why am I not dead yet if I’m interfering with their plan?
[In order to protect the user from an instant game over, certain world scale abilities have reduced effects against the host.]
Well that’s good, and the first thing the Game has said in a while.
Are you there Game? Speak to me please?
“. . .” I wait for a dramatic five seconds before scoffing.
Nothing. Letting out a small sigh I did notice a key aspect of that text box. Reduced, not Immune. Definitely very useful, but presumably it's for ‘game balance’ or however this thing would frame it.
Whatever. I’ve got business to handle tomorrow and I’m not going to let this Game fuck up my already bad sleep schedule.
As the night took me I couldn’t help but imagine what tomorrow would hold.
Hopefully it would’t be too difficult to deal with in this fucked up city.
[You have rested for 8 hours. You have healed.]
I flexed my leg as I awoke and found it without deep injury, the bite marks I’d received had faded, and I felt far better than the previous day. Not a full heal, but definitely a heal nonetheless.
With a grunt I rise from the bed and walk to the kitchen, I throw together some cereal and eat in silence. Emi is probably already at work, she’d worked long shifts in my previous life and presumably did the same here.
It’s Saturday now and I think its time to get a lay of the land. Though honestly I’d rather go towards the water first.
Which reminds me about Leviathan. Fuck, maybe I should just book it and leave? I frown and shake my head. My mind flashes towards those who I failed in that City. At least I can try to save this one.
I start my walk with a hoodie on, the cold weather only gets worse as I go towards the water. The waves crash against the bay and then something catches my eye.
Is he getting mugged? I lean around the corner and yep, its the fucking Nazi’s threatening some asian kid. Which type of asian . . . well I couldn’t tell you, I’m not an expert on the subject. Either way I decide it’s time to do my first hero ‘thing’.
To my surprise I’m giving some extra incentive.
[Baby’s first Heroing]
[Stop the Mugging]
[Ensure the Civilian is Unharmed]
I threw on my hood of the hangman and manifested the weave that guided my powers. From the ground beneath the two nazi fucks something sprouted out, twisting spirals of gray rock wrapping their bodies and pushing against thier bodies.
“What the-ACK” There’s a crunch sound and my eyes widen. The mugger's arm cracks as their body twists and I loosen the bindings slightly to avoid killing them. While I’m not opposed to killing nazi’s I didn’t want that kind of heat on me this early on.
I was going to have to get used to killing people. Especially because of the dungeons . . . but with S class threats like the Slaughterhouse Nine I’d also have to kill . . . for a moment I considered just crushing them under the weight of the bindings but I shook my head.
Once I’m strong enough. Once I’m strong enough I’ll help this fucked up city by getting rid of these evil monsters. Maybe I should start my own gang at one point.
“C-cape!” I don’t even acknowledge who ever said that, instead I just sprint towards the docks as the sun rises from the ocean in the distance. The temporary darkness acting as a shield against any onlookers. I run and run and run until finally looking at the little event I had completed.
[Baby’s first Heroing]
[Stop the Mugging Completed. Gain Villainy.]
[Ensure the Civilian is Unharmed Completed. Gain Heroism.]
Oh? That’s new.
[Villainy]
Harvested from the wicked and filled with a chaotic power. Use to gain two random attribute points.
[Heroism]
Gained through heroic acts of protecting the innocent and upholding order. Use it to gain one attribute point of your choice.
I hadn't thought of it before but I hadn't gained stats when I leveled up, nor did I consider that I wasn’t exactly gaining any visible experience. Really wishing this thing a proper heads up display for my health and experience.
Doing things in this reality will be vital to my growth, guess I can’t just dungeon dive forever.
Alright well let's put that extra point in Charisma and then lets roll the others!
Rolling 2d6.
+1 Dexterity. +1 Strength.
AN: For anyone curious I do actually roll d6 lmao.
I decide to peek over my status as I spot my destination in the distance.
Name: Jackson Dubois
Class: Bard 3
STR: 11
DEX: 13
CON: 12
INT: 11
WIS: 11
CHR: 14
Skills:
Bardic Inspiration II
Jack of All Trades II
Bardic Composition I
Equipment:
[Geomancy: Earthen Bones]
[Silver Rake]
[Hood of the Hangman]
Claims:
Stone Breaker Hangman 2/6:
+Damage against Golems
+Rope Techniques
The only active instant change I feel is from dexterity. The improved finesse and control flowing through my body, I’m not faster but I have better control of said speed. Maybe stat increases are exponential? Would explain why I felt the dexterity but not the intelligence . . . though that asks the question of what Charisma even is. Social smarts? Saying the right thing? Appearance? Mind Control? I shake my head and pull the thoughts away and instead focus on my destination.
I approach the Boat Graveyard. One of the few places I’d remembered in this city. Seeing in person was certainly an experience, the vibe was dreary and there was no one nearby. This part of the city was a stain, one I could potentially use for my evil plans.
Well my evil plans were saving the world and trying to generally improve people's lives but small details are irrelevant!
Looking it over there was about thirty- no it was more like forty something old and defunct boats that hadn't seen usage in years. I took a deep breath of ocean air and my eyes settled on a green portal softly spiraling.
Green? The previous one was yellow . . . Using stoplight logic hopefully this means it’ll be easier. I look at it an a menu pops up
[Ocean of the Hundred Curses]
There lays an oceanic planet with one hundred different types of curses people draw power from. Some are considered blessings, but most drive the surrounding audience to terror and the user to madness.
Do what you can to help relieve this world of the madness deeply ingrained into the ‘lucky’ few blessed by the Ocean.
[Stage One]
[Fishman Maggot]
[Escape the Storm.]
[Clear Fishman Maggot 0/150]
[Secret: ???]
[Secret: ???}
Slamming my hand on the button I walk through the portal and instantly I find myself on a boat out at sea, the powerful wind and rain slamming into me as screams echo all around me from the horrified crew.
Corpses lay on the deck, one specifically catches my eye. Someone with half of their body missing, but the captain's uniform is still clear upon their ruined body. Additionally the strange body parts of some fish like creatures are scattered about as well.
Next to me is a boy of fifteen at the maximum whose face turns to me with widening eyes.
“You alright.” They don’t respond as I pull them to their feet, they use a harpoon next to them as a cane to help steady themself. Over the side of the deck I hear the sound of clawing as odd creatures start to make their way over.
Fat blubbery heads without eyes or a nose, large jaws, skin of a greenish blue hue , webbed hands and feet. Their claws were razor sharp and their teeth more so. I steadied my breath as I manifested my Silver Rake in my hand.
Gunshots from old flintlock weapons rang out firing randomly as the crew cowered away in fear. The screaming, the gunshots, the wind, the rain, the howling of the ‘Fishman Maggots’ all of it became too much to bear.
So I took command of the crew, and inspired them to the best of my ability.
“ALL OF YOU. LISTEN UP! Follow my orders and I will get you through this!”
I am NOT having a repeat of what happened in the city. I need to act before anyone dies! I don’t care if this shit isn’t real, I’m going to get us through this storm.
The lad next to me tensed up slightly at the words as my words reached the rest of the crew.
“W-who the fuck are you?” I point a hand at one of the Maggot freaks and blast it with a rock to the skull, killing it instantly. Manifesting raw earth like that without a catalyst such as the ground is difficult, but with the emotions so high I feel the burden wane slightly.
A hush falls over the crew for a moment before the kid next to me mutters something.
“A-an Earth Weaver . . .” Don’t know what that means, but if they seem in awe I can use that. Hope rushes through the crew, the emotion practically physical. It’s crushed by the bastards clawing over the edge of the boat a moment later.
“Focus.” Their panic is silenced in an instant. “Group up, I want those with loaded firearms with their backs against the wall. Those who can weather the rain grab a harpoon and cover the flank.”
They scatter about, but somehow I feel the threads within me guide them to not crash into each other as they rush about. Or perhaps it was a testament to their unity as a crew.
I paced towards the edge and easily stabbed my weapon into the head of a fishman, this blade was unfathomably sharp and there was little resistance as I went through its soft skull. Pulling the blade out and letting the body fall I turned back to the crew.
“All of you, hold your fire until my command!” We can’t be wasting the shots we have, Jack of All Trades told me that those are shitty muskets which have terrible aim and a single shot. More of the maggot fucks start climbing over the edge as my eyes narrow- then a massive wave hits the boat and the kid next to me nearly goes flying off.
I grab him by the wrist as he shouts in pain, his small weight being tugged along as the two of us are dragged to the other side of the ship in an instant by the massive amount of water. Behind us is now a massive group of the monsters who seemed to ride the wave and my eyes scan over to the staggering riflemen and nervous spear wielders.
“Gunners without anyone in front, kneel and fire!” A serious of gunshots rang out and only a few of the fucks were tagged but they were killed instantly from the blasts.
“Next row, FIRE!” More shots, more dead fish monsters. “Drop the guns, we aren’t loading them in this weather.” I’d noticed that the reason so few shots were fired is because many of the guns simply didn’t work. We can’t have unreliability at a time like this!
“Everyone. Grab a weapon and group near the edges! I don’t want a single one of those damn things on the boat!” I started ripping through the maggots, I didn’t need to be a master fighter as my weapon was stupidly strong, or perhaps my foes were simply that weak. Especially because most of the fishmen were still rising from prone allowing me easy cuts.
One rushes towards me but the kid brings down a massive piece of wood and crushes its head in a single strike. They let out haggard breaths as they stare at my figure with eyes filled full of wonder. Damn this kid is strong as fuck for a fourteen year old.
The ship rocks and I realize that if something doesn’t change we are going to be trapped in this storm and the boat is going to get knocked over. My eyes spot the twisted sails and the damaged rope. An idea formed in my mind as I saw it.
Snagging a nearby bundle rope I hopped up and into the large and damaged rigging of the ship. The sails were going to be useless without proper direction and getting us out of here was going to have to be up to me.
All this knowledge of ropes had been shoved into my mind and was only further boosted by Jack of All Trades. As much as I hated the pun I couldn’t help but be thankful to it.
Looking down upon the battlefield I saw the different crew members stabbing into the rising monsters and holding them off just barely. But it was enough while I directed us the fuck out of here!
That is until I heard a massive scream over the side of the boat. A creature similar to the previous ones but with massive hooks for arms flew out of the water and onto the deck.
Facing down the only child on the boat they raised a hook blade arm and prepared to cut him in half. I reached down to cast a spell as the spear of amber fell alongside the blade.
The moment felt like an eternity, my heart pounded, the environment faded away as my breath caught on itself. I felt trapped in my own body.
Until I heard the sickening crunching of bones echo from beneath me.
AN: Cliffhanger time! Evil Laugh. Bit longer than expected, I actually was going to cut it before the dungeon but decided to just start it instead. We get introduced to some poor sailors out at sea, and now with a new captain at the helm they might just survive!
For those wondering, the Earth Weaver curse is considered a blessing. In exchange for slowly turning you to stone from the inside out it grants you Geomancy, though this process can take your entire lifespan to actually kill you. Usually it's just a free durability increase and only actually petrifies your body once it's completely done turning you to stone. It’s one of the few considered a ‘blessing’ as on an oceanic planet the ability to create land is seen as a divine gift.
I love all your questions about the lore so feel free to ask away, and I love your comments and grammatical fixes too! Your support helps push me forward so I appreciate it a bunch!
As always, thank you for reading and I’ll see you next time!