Cutscene: Tinker Toys (Preview Draft) (Patreon)

Cutscene: Tinker Toys

Colin leaned forward over his workstation, his chair adjusting around him automatically with the motion, as he shuffled through the collection of scrambled writings in front of him. One hand cupped his chin, two fingers barely managing to conceal the slight smile on his face as he reviewed the mess of notes in his hands.

Notes that were making far more sense to him now than they did weeks ago.

“Hm.” It was not often that Armsmaster found himself in a good mood.

Most days often followed one another in a haze of Tinkering, maintenance, patrols and meetings. Not necessarily in that order, but he considered that sequence the general level of importance to assign them in his head.

Every now and again, though, that routine would be interrupted with the occasional cape fight or public appearance, but the latter didn’t take place as often as you would think, even in a city like Brockton Bay. Granted, when they did, they were intense, disruptive, and potentially hyper-lethal, but that was the standard, after all.

Even when the routine was broken, it was still routine.

Finding himself in a good mood was a stunning break to said routine, however, and one that Armsmaster found himself often struggling to recapture. It was rare enough when it happened, and it was stunningly fleeting when it did.

Many who knew him — personally, professionally or both — would be hard-pressed to say they had ever seen so much as a smile on his face. Those same individuals would actually go so far as to say they didn’t believe it was possible for him to smile, a somewhat insulting statement but not necessarily unexpected. He knew this not-so-fun fact because he had better hearing than most would think, outside of his suit but especially inside of it.

Again, he wasn’t offended by this.

Colin knew very well how he came off — as well as how he presented himself  — and it was more often than not that the man found himself leaning into said expectations so as to avoid having to try to seem personable when he didn’t absolutely need to — something he considered a waste of time and effort.

Hence, his surprise that he had been in a mood that he could only describe as good for what was nearing well over a month. An unexpected surprise, but not necessarily an unappreciated one.

Armsmaster noted the slight smile on his face reflected back at him from the mirror-like metal that made up the externals of his newest suit, the distorted expression still clear to him as he allowed the system to open itself up and expose the innards of the armor.

Barely two meters to the side of it, standing by itself on the wall in an enclosure of its own was his previous suit as its mechanisms opened outwards in a slightly off-sync mimicry of its replacement.

For a moment, Armsmaster felt the slight urge to frown as he analyzed the slower, almost disjointed movement of his former armor. To his current standards, the suit of just thirty days ago felt years out of date, antiquated even.

Damn near obsolete, in comparison.

The urge faded quickly, though, as he glanced back at his current armor, something just short of a grin spreading across a face at his own handiwork. He had started work on the new suit in fits and spurts, the entire process beginning with what had at first just started with what was intended to be a complete overhaul to its artificial muscle systems. What he had ended up with, after several intense Tinker fugues, was the largest-scale refactoring of his armor designs he’d done in nearly a decade.

The first had begun quite literally a month ago, nearly to the day in fact. Inspiration had dropped onto him from the most unexpected source, causing something of a revelation. No, more than that, an epiphany.

It had, in fact, been the inquisitive review of a certain individual's medical scans that sent his mind into a state of disassociation that nearly every Tinker was familiar with and, more often than not, seeked to induce.

------------------

“Hello, Colin.”

He blinked the exhaustion from his eyes, the familiar ache in his back and hesitation in his muscles, from long periods of work suddenly making itself known as he drifted back into awareness. “D-Dragon?” Armsmaster stared down at his fingers, precision tools falling from his clawed grip onto the table in front of him. “Jesus, how… how long?”

He didn’t need to finish the question, the statement enough for Dragon of all people to know what he was referring to.

“A little over nine hours this time.”

“...oh.”

“Indeed,” Dragon’s image shifted on the screen, the digitized avatar shifting into a visible frown. “I’ve been checking on you in thirty-minute intervals after the first five.”

Armsmaster opened his mouth to say something in return — a thank you, possibly — then he turned his attention down to what was in front of him and all thoughts of anything else fled from his tired mind.

------------------

It was a highly unique and irrefutably interesting state of mind to suddenly know something so deeply that its inner workings become instinctual and ingrained, almost a thing of the body itself rather than the mind.

If he were a more philosophical man, he might have spent countless days pondering over if his abilities simply decided to grant him some expertise ex nihilo or if his mind was just enhanced enough to draw these connections from its own heuristic system.

Regardless of the means, time was meaningless when he was deep in the hyper-focused mental state that Tinkering often brought on. Save for the inherent limits of his physical body and the necessities it required, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was possible for him to simply Tinker indefinitely, improving on improvements he had just made until he reached a hard limit.

If such a thing exists…

Anyway, by the time Armsmaster had come back up for air that first day, he'd had the bare-bones of a brand new suit lying right in front of him. It was at that point that he knew he couldn't turn back to what he had grown used to.

What he had put together that day would be his step forward, he knew that.

The inspiration had been one part, a necessary part, but still only one part.

The second and most important part had been an almost-forgotten present from Dragon — a birthday present, of course — because who else would celebrate his birthday? Granted, the issue with that wasn't others choosing not to, it was his own negative response to his birthday. He didn’t mind sharing the time to enjoy other’s celebrations but with every year, his own birthday was just a reminder of his passing age and eventual shift into decrepit obsolescence.

Armsmaster sighed, two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt his mood drop slightly with his own thoughts. No one better than yourself at ruining a good time.

Anyway, the gift itself had been a two-parter; a carbon metamaterial, nano-gel insulated at that, along with a much smaller amount of a piezoelectric reactive liquid metal. While both Tinkering materials had been appreciated, especially given the effort and time required in the manufacture of the latter, Armsmaster had simply been unable to truly utilize either at the time.

Granted, that had been more of a lack of desire rather than ability to do so, but he had been focused on maximizing the efficiency of his current designs rather than setting himself back by creating something entirely new.

Yet those same metamaterials had finally been put to use - good use, at that. Hours and hours of painstaking work he could barely recall had laid the groundwork for a new set of power armor, layers of metamaterial patterned into the myofibril structure of his new suit with the liquid metal serving as a layer in between, the former placed in specific patterns that even now seemed imprinted onto his memory.

Of course, Armsmaster knew he likely could have done it without the metamaterials at hand but it would have been like knowing how to bake a cake without the proper ingredients at hand. Or rather, maybe it would be more comparable to chiseling Michelangelo's David out of simple cheap wood.

Either way, it wouldn't be nearly the same.

By the end of his efforts that week, Armsmaster had in front of him a suit that stood head and shoulders over his previous ones. After all, what else would you call a near 100% increase in strength, durability, agility and responsiveness all across the board? The massive breakthrough had almost made his hours of Tinkering everyday to eke out a fraction of a single percent of improvement seem pointless.

Almost.

Building on top of his old designs with the addition of the new concepts had allowed him to make the most of the muscle analogues the undersuit portion of his armor utilized as well as that of the external exoskeleton musculature. With the nature of the rigid yet reactive undersuit designed to support and protect him while working in tandem with the enhancile nature of the polymers…

Well, the capabilities spoke for themselves. Each thin cord of artificial myomer meta-matrix polymuscle fiber already had five times the tensile strength of elastomers, allowing for a potential force projection nearly two hundred times past that of human norms.

And with all those corded myomer bundles built into the skeletal frame of his armor along with the metallic gel layer amplifying the force even further, the ability to kick a car across a street with ease was well within the realm of possibility. A near flawless amplification of speed and power.

And to think, he still wasn't finished.

Not even after weeks of Tinkering.

It especially hadn't been finished when he had taken the suit out to keep Lung at bay, especially considering the muscle underlay had still been visible, but the suit had once again shown its worth. While direct combat would have been a different story, the thermoneutrality of the metamaterial design had made weathering the indirect effects of Lung's flames a non-issue.

“Note to self: Thermal insulation is a priority for the near future; temperature regulation a necessity.” Armsmaster muttered the words to himself, already compartmentalizing the thought for later. The Tinker took a few steps back and stretched his brawny arms outwards as he kept his gaze on his wall of armor.

After a moment, a slight frown crossed his face as he focused his attention on the new set of armor once again and gave it something of a once-over. “In addition, jump jets for potential pauldron or greave upgrades; improved mobility is a must. Short-term flight, a possibility.” He nodded slightly. “Would need an ion cyclotron resonance frequency booster to even begin, though.”

Granted, the PRT had not been pleased with the use of an untested and unreviewed suit in the field but Armsmaster truly couldn't find it in him to care. He had been too happy to expend the effort to worry about any reprimand he would receive, verbal or otherwise. Even Piggot’s general attitude over the last few weeks barely put a dent in his mood.

Hell, he had been far too happy in general to care about anything.

After all, why wouldn’t he be? This new suit would elevate him in a way he hadn't thought possible for years…

But still number two. His expression shifted downwards again, slight smile now a frown as the errant thought intruded on his good mood. Still never good enough.

Armsmaster understood very well what it meant to be a leader. He also knew what the importance of strength meant when it came to leadership. He knew it especially well being a Tinker, and even if he didn’t, a multitude of strangers on the Internet would make sure he was quickly made aware of that fact.

No one in his team understood his mindset or the pressure it took to be him. No one would look up to Legend, Alexandria or Eidolon if they were not the absolute strongest the Protectorate had to offer.

And he…

He wasn’t even the strongest on his own team.

Not yet, at least. Not quite yet.

Even then, it might not make much difference. Armsmaster pushed his thoughts away from his weapon as he turned around and made his way across his austere lab. As he approached his primary workstation, the man dropped himself into his chair with a heavy sigh.

With another heavy breath, the Protectorate hero turned to grab hold of a tablet computer sitting on a metal desk just to his right. With barely a glance at the screen proper, he flicked and tapped his way through the device until he finally arrived at what he needed.

Current Setting Clock: Friday May 13 11:11:04 EST 2011

> Initializing CHALLENGER-SYSTEM

> A.R.M. BIOS LOADING…

> A.R.M. BIOS// CHALLENGER / VER 1.22.12

> CHALLENGER-SYSTEM Diagnostics Beginning…

> CHALLENGER-Sys Init Completed

> A.R.M. Suit variant-CHALLENGER ONLINE

> Auto-Detecting A.R.M Suit Extensions. . . . . . .

> A.R.M. Suit Extensions Detected

Press ESC to enter SETUP…

[INITIALIZING. . . . . . .]​

[. . . . . . .]

[. . . . . . .]

• Armored Resistance Mechanism Systems - [ONLINE]
• Fibril Mesh - [ONLINE]
• Bio-Monitor - [ONLINE]
• Micro-Generator Systems - [ONLINE]
• Thermal Adaptation - [ONLINE]
• Echolocation Function - [ONLINE]
• Thermograph Sensors - [ONLINE]
• Infrared Sensors - [ONLINE]
• Night Vision - [ONLINE]
• Vocal Stress Analyser - [ONLINE]
• Motion Tracker - [ONLINE]
• Active Camouflage - [ONLINE]
• Combat Analyzer - [ONLINE]
• Combat Predictor - [ONLINE]
• Stun Function - [ONLINE]
• Visual Scanner - [ONLINE]
• Real Time Translation - [ONLINE]
• Blade Function - [ONLINE]
• Hard-Light ArmShield - [ONLINE]
• Micro-Actuators - [ONLINE]
• Inertial Dampening - [ONLINE]
• Toxin/Radiation Detector - [ONLINE]
• Gyroscopic Stability System - [ONLINE]
• Universal Interface - [ONLINE]
• Electrolocation Function - [ONLINE]
• Force Augmentation Circuits- [ONLINE]
• Augmented Reality Movement System - [ONLINE]
• Adaptive Reflex & Motion System - [ONLINE]

> Full Systems Check

> All Systems Nominal

> All Programmed Functions Online.

> All Software Online.

> Initiating Closed Network Connection Sequence.

> Now Connected to Closed Network.

> Connection Secure

> Boot Sequence Complete.

> Diagnostics Complete.

> Power levels at 100% percent capacity and steady.

> Projected length of time till shutdown: 127 hours at average levels of usage.

Nearly complete, Armsmaster mused. But those thrusters, however…

The bearded Tinker nodded his head. Table that for l-

“Armsmaster?” Colin found himself harshly pulled from his diagnostics, the sound of his moniker being repeated once again quenching any attempts at maintaining his laser-focus. “Armsmaster?”

Armsmaster raised his head from his tablet, the insistent sound of Miss Militia’s voice ringing loud and clear over the speaker of his workshop. Placing the device down, the Protectorate leader rose from his seat, a response on his lips that he knew she would hear. “Militia, what can I assist you with?”

“I… I tried to contact you through your comms earlier but you didn’t respond,” she replied, a slight hesitance to her words even as her tone came off rather flat. “So, I decided to meet you where I knew you would be.”

Armsmaster paused slightly at that, blinking as he recalled the contact request he had ignored while in the middle of some armor upgrades roughly an hour prior. “Yes, I was occupied at the time but we can speak now. Just one moment.” With a few deft keystrokes, his armors — new and old — began to recess back into the walls, pneumatic hisses of air releasing as mechanized doors sealed the Tinker-tech away until he would next need it.

As the doors finally closed, the Tinker strode across the cold metal tiles of his workshop and quickly opened a steel cabinet to withdraw what he needed. With practiced efficiency, Armsmaster threw a pristine white lab coat over what he was currently wearing — a simple T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts bearing his own logo.

Taking a moment to both clear his throat and button the coat to a degree he felt appropriate, Colin Wallis turned back around to face the entrance to his quarters and spoke. “You’re free to enter.”

The sentence was directed to both his visitor as well as the room itself, the locking mechanism to his workshop’s door responding. A second later, the door slid open to reveal a waiting Miss Militia.

Hannah entered the room in full costume, patriotic bandana resting around her neck and leaving her face fully exposed. Her expression was a thin line; lips tight in a way that implied a frown but not quite, almost as if she was holding something back. Her face matched her body language in that way as well, hands flat at her sides in a manner that seemed deliberate in its attempt to give nothing away.