cultmirror | 001 | pew pew

The gun shops are a bust. Completely ransacked. There are stores that look like they had sections with guns but they're also gone. So I'm currently breaking into what looks like a guard precinct. There are some weapons here but they're in bad shape and practically antiques.

[His voice squeaks a little in indignation on the word "antiques" at the sheer, pitiful oldness of it all. Of course he'd think projectile weapons were lame and out of fashion. Aside from being less functional, it's so uncool, having to hit stuff with little metal beads instead of high speed photon bursts. Like, okay, it's kind of cool people figured out how to shoot little metal bits into each other with nothing more than chemical propellant and a prayer, but he just prefers huge ammo reserves and larger bursts of damage.]

[Ugh. He's so put upon in the stone age times.]

I found a gun here I can maybe fix up if I can find some metal machining equipment and files. [He's found a decommissioned NYPD S&W Model 10. It's a little rusted and pitted, but still mostly intact, and it's obvious from the way he holds it and stares down the sight that he's stared down the sight of a gun many a time.] Preferably powered, but with the right tools, I can even fix it by hand. It'll just take forever.

[An odd bit of expertise for a 14-year-old boy. Usually, it'd take years to get that kind of metal-working expertise and the ability to restore something that damaged and broken.]

It's a manual, chemical based projectile weapon with a revolving chamber. I think I saw a thing meant to let people speed load these in one of the gun shops though. Like where you could pre-fill a round clip to drop in? I bet I could make more of those clips.

So question one: Anyone know how to make ammo for these? Or can their weird new powers do it? 'Cause it'll suck if I have to figure out how to make that too. I can figure out something to trade in return.

Question two: Anyone know where I can find some metal-working tools? Like facilities or shops on Earth in this era? I've been to New York City before but this is like seeing it in prehistoric times. The gun stores were wiped and I don't know where to find super-old stuff here.

[For instance, he has no clue that some schools have metal-working classes, but logically knows that some kind of institutions with that kind of thing might exist. He knows unfamiliarity with the era means it'll be harder to find without asking.]

And three: does anyone want anything fun from evidence lockup?

[He holds up a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.]

It's mostly wiped out but there are still a few goodies left.

[He looks around and nods his head approvingly at the clear and obvious signs of humanity's tendencies towards lawlessness in this time. Not all of it is grim, either; he's in a section that's mostly just confiscated, improvised weaponry or dismantled booby traps. Not all of it was necessarily used in commission of crimes because it wasn't sent off to any forensics labs. Just a handful of things that might be useful against the monsters, pre-modified so people don't have to find a bat and hammer their own spikes into it, for instance.]

[Past New Yorkers were such a creative people. He sounds impressed at the incivility:]

Humans from this era knew how to party.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

How much... arsenal is too much?

( Props to the glorified plushie, the Murmur thrums with a great deal of impressed amusement. )

[Cato squints in confusion.]

[He was raised by a man that, within weeks of living on a ship, had an entire arsenal of weapons that popped out from the walls after you hit a lever.]

[Avocato's arsenal was even bigger when he was growing up on Tera Con Prime and had to be thoroughly kitten-proofed for his safety.]

Is that like a trick question or something?

Is it so unreasonable?

I've had a photon pistol in my hand practically since I could walk. Kinda needed a gun to complete the set.

[He tucks the gun away in a satchel.]

[ there's a brief flash of concern that rushes through her connection before it gets flattened to a steady, pleasant calm. ]

Aren't you worried about ghosts possibly haunting those pieces of evidence?

[He thinks about it and decides it's worth the risk.]

[He shrugs.]

Ghosts aren't even a real thing back home, other than as a folklore thing. People die there all the time and I've never seen one.

[There were no ghosts on Earth when they'd found it in Final Space and the entire population was dead. That felt like a space where ghosts would make themselves known.]

So they might not be a thing here.

It sounds like you can handle the gun repairs well, but if you ever need a second opinion or assistance, I can help anytime! As for ammo, I can craft it for you. I only need materials for them in exchange.

For tools, you should be able to find them in plenty of places, such as construction sites, laboratories, factories, workshops, or even common garages.

[He makes note of the places mentioned. It hadn't even occurred to him labs in this world might have them, for instance.]

I'll keep it in mind. I mostly want to do the repairs myself. I mean if something goes wrong, this thing literally explodes in my hand like a frag grenade.

[There's a lot of pressure involved with chemical propellant.]

[And he's not going to say that he has decades of expertise fixing busted metal equipment under pain of death if he got it wrong. He may be using skills from his time in the shard because they're useful and essential for survival but that doesn't mean he wants to talk about it.]

I can definitely use help on the projectiles, though. [A pause.] All you want is materials? Really?

[He's from a very quid pro quo universe. It feels unlikely to impossible he's met people like his crew somewhere else.]

[ Explosions are common when dealing with complex mechanisms, so Caelus isn't really phased about hearing about that. Rather than worrying about the gun itself, he's more worried about the kid hurting himself. But he'll put his trust in him.

Anyway, when asked about the exchange, Caelus's spirit through the connection brightens. He answers lightheartedly. ]

I craft your ammo, I get materials to work with, and the experience improves my skills. Money's no good in this apocalypse, and I can't possibly take food from someone younger than me. A newcomer, no less. I'm not to the point of being that desperate.

Well, I suppose I want something else… Your name, and friendship! I'm Caelus, the Galactic Baseballer. Nice to meet you!

I know someone that could potentially provide an assist when it comes to ammunition creation, so I could ask them if they are up for it.

Also, those booby traps look fun, though I think I see one that probably was meant to take off a finger or toe. I'd be willing to take one of those and see what can be done to put it to good use.

I have a lot of things I can use to pay them for the bullets.

[Skills. And he plans to hoard useful salvage he can trade.]

And I'll give you a freebie on the traps.

[Even if he plans to ask for trade more often later, it won't hurt to toss freebies at people now and then to generate some good will among the community.]

[He carefully hefts some gnarly looking spiky traps into the battered shopping cart he dragged into the place.]

Where do you want me to drop it off?

Hopefully something shiny. They do enjoy shiny things, especially if they can be destructive.

[He had no idea what his daughter might ask for payment, but it couldn’t hurt to ask, right? It seemed that they all had to pitch in and help out, and she was already offering places for people to stay.]

Ah, I see how it is. The first one is always free, and that’s how they get you addicted.

[He was joking, of course, mirth in his tone. He would take whatever he could get his hands on at this point. Resources were scarce, so any little trade was worthwhile as far as he was concerned.

Of course the particular hefted trap looks like it was full of promise.]

I’m currently robbing a bank. We can meet in the middle and do the hand off?

[He raises both eyebrows. He knows the bank most likely has no guards and money is useless in this world but it's still cool on principle.]

I absolutely would love to crash a bank robbery.

[Great place to meet. In his opinion, robberies and heists are great social activities.]

[It was less what was in the bank so much as the place itself. There were usually secure vaults in there, and he wanted to investigate if many of the branches still did and if they were in good condition. The breaking in was honestly the fun part, challenging old skills that he had allowed to wane in the last few decades.]

You gonna arrest me? Sounds like fun, kiddo. You can find me at Scotiabank. [He provides the address.

Besides, if the teen was breaking into cop shops, then it meant that the drop-in would have skills to help him with the bank. It sounded like a match made in the tunnels.]

Bring that trap with you if you can. We can see if it still works.

Uh, to help rob it. Duh. I'm great at heists.

[Absolutely brazen with admitting he's a little criminal. At least his crew does it for a good reason. (Usually.)]

[He's been cautious about risking closeness with people. Keeps insisting he plans to try not to make friends or Tethers. But the excuse of starting up trade with someone - and the thrill of dicking around with bank security - means he can lie to himself that this is just business and not him getting to know people in this place.]

[When he arrives, he has the trap in a burlap sack to avoid any of the pointy bits cutting anything.]

[He's already geared up for the apocalypse, clothes a mix of practical and the kind of flashy you get when very excited about stealing from stores after a lifetime of relatively limited fashion. A golf bag at his back holds a crowbar, youth cricket bat, and small piece of rebar he sharpened into a spear (with wrapped leather cord for a handle). There's a few marker tallies on the bag - monsters he's already killed while wandering around. He's wearing a half-face airsoft mask shaped like a half-skull over his mouth.]

[He unhooks the airsoft mask and tucks it away, then shakes the bag with the trap, and says cheerfully:]

I think it's meant to hang in a doorway and spike someone in the head if they trip on a tripwire. So I brought some wire too.

[Hey.

Ash thinks about saying something, but then she chooses not to.

But there's certainly a familiar sort of feeling that brushes across the murmur before she makes her retreat.]

001 | pew pew | week 1

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