NOVEL NEXT Aggro 4.12
Aggro 4.12
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Greg Lucas Veder tilted his head, blinking obtusely at the well-dressed man sitting on his couch next to his mother, a pair of mugs resting on the coffee table in front of him. After a few moments of this, he turned to his mom, the blonde woman smiling nervously at him, and repeated the same action.
Several long seconds went by before Greg took in a long breath, closed his eyes slowly and shrugged before finally speaking to the strange man. "So, I'm gonna assume we haven't met before?"
The man's mouth turned upwards into a slight smile at Greg's odd comment and he let out a small chuckle. A well-manicured hand rose to scratch at his the side of his ear, brushing the side of his thick, brown hair before moving down to a smooth-shaven chin. "Well, I don't think we have." With a slight raise of his eyebrows, he glanced towards Greg's mother and gestured for her to speak first. "Ms. Veder, if you don't mind?"
"Greg," The teen turned to his mom as she began to get up from the couch but after a moment, as if thinking better of it, she sat back down and glanced back at Greg with an awkward, almost sickly, expression. "Sweetheart…" She seemed to trail away, unsure of what to say.
Under his breath, Greg muttered a quick "Observe" only to freeze as he read what came up.
Marcus Cutler Lv 14
PRT- Special Agent
HP: 280/280
A special agent within the PRT for the last seven years, Marcus Cutler serves to handle the more investigative and sensitive duties that cannot be delegated to the regular officers within the PRT who function more as a police for parahumans. Carries a Glock Model 22 sidearm. A fan of Les Miserables and monster trucks. Has connections with Fortress Construction.
"Mom, seriously." Greg interrupted again, a hint of nervousness trailing into his voice as he read the description of the PRT agent in his living room. "What's going on?" Seriously, though, why is the PRT here?
This made no sense right now. How did anyone know he was a cape?
"Greg, sweetheart, Mr. Cutler just wants to… talk to you about… something. So, please, just… just listen." She sat down again, raising her cup to her lips as she eyed her son.
Greg sucked on his teeth, desperately wishing this was not what he thought it was. "... Okay. I'll listen, Mr. Cutler."
The man in question gave him a smile, Greg choosing not to trust it on principle. "Again, my name is Marcus Cutler and I work for the PRT. Now, I know you might be wondering why I'm here-"
"A little, yeah. I might have been wondering that."
Cutler stopped for a moment, pursing his lips slightly before a grin opened in full force. "Anyway, Greg… Can I call you Greg?"
"Sure," Greg allowed himself a smile as a thought jumped into his head. "I'd prefer if you called me Mr. Veder, though. As my mom says, I am the man of the house."
"Like I was saying," the agent began again, "Mr. Veder, my name is Marcus Cutler. I serve as a Special Agent with the PRT and I'm here because we received a call - an anonymous call, mind you - that you were likely a new parahuman and we at the PRT simply wanted to provide you with any assistance you might need in dealing with your new status."
Greg blinked rapidly, his mind slamming to a halt as he received confirmation of what he had been fearing. For a moment, he said nothing, simply staring at the special agent who dropped such a bomb on him.
"So… I don't want to ruin this cape theory the PRT has about me, cause between you and me, being a cape would be pretty darn cool, but you guys do know that I'm not a cape, right?"
The suited man raised a hand to scratch his chin and nodded at Greg, as if acquiescing to his point. "It's perfectly understandable that you believe so…"
"Uh, no-no-no," Greg interjected, pausing for a moment to shrug off his backpack. "There's no belief here. I'd love if it if I was. If you've seen my room, you'd know that." he continued, pushing past his nerves by just saying what came to mind. "Thing is, I'm just not a cape. It's that simple. Mom, you believe me right?"
Greg turned to Susan Veder, already assured that his mother would have his back. Instead, she seemed to have not heard his question, gazing intently at the cup of tea in her grip. "Mom?"
"Greg, it's not that… you've been acting a bit…" His mother glanced up at him slowly, almost as if she had to pull her gaze away from her cup. "… odd recently and there's a lot of changes you've been going through…"
"Puberty? You mean puberty?" Greg snapped, hands falling to clench at his sides. "Just 'cause the puberty fairy gave me an extra big sprinkle of puberty dust, I'm suddenly a cape, Mom? You don't believe me just because I'm suddenly going outside once in a while? Is it that weird?"
"Sweetheart, it's not that I don't believe you…"
"But you don't," Greg interrupted again, his tone lacking any bite as he slowly spoke the three words. "Why? Why don't you believe me, Mom?"
Susan shook her head, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find words that just weren't coming. After a few seconds, she just gave her son a weak smile and shook her head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."
"Wait…" A thought went through Greg's mind and he froze, mouth falling open slightly as he stared at his mom. "D-did… Mom, did you call the PRT on me?"
"No!" Susan flinched as Greg asked her the question, her cup of tea sloshing wildly as Susan tried to steady it with shaking hands. "Greg, I-"
"Again, Mr. Veder, I must repeat that the call was anonymous," This time, it was Agent Cutler who chose to cut in, raising a hand before Susan could say anything else. "The individual who made the call, or calls, requested that their identity be withheld and it is the stance of the PRT to never release any private information relating to parahumans who have not taken on a cape identity or individuals who report any information relating to them."
"Of course it is," Greg said with a frown as he turned back to the agent. "But you can still come in here and accuse me of being a cape without any proof."
"Mr. Veder, we received a series of…" Marcus tilted his head slightly as if thinking, before continuing, "tips from an individual who noted several aspects you were purported to exhibit. Aspects that we often relate to the appearance of parahuman abilities in young people."
"Aspects?"
"Again, I'm not at liberty to disclose the particulars of the information they released to PRT," Another smile that Greg didn't believe crossed the agent's face as he adjusted his tie. "I hope you understand."
"No, I understand." Greg lifted his eyebrows, humming slightly. "I understand that you have information on me that I'm not allowed to know about from someone that you won't tell me about and that might not exist at all, Agent Cutler." Greg snorted, shaking his head. "You know, If that is your real name."
"Sweetheart, could you please stop and let Agent Cutler finish?"
Greg blew air from his pursed lips, and slumped his shoulders in an entirely undignified manner. "But, Moooom..."
"Greg, if you're so sure that you're not a parahuman, then… then what's the problem?" The older woman gave Greg a pitiful glance that almost made him want to tell his mom everything he'd been hiding. A moment's thought was all it took to push that instinct away, Greg unsure of whether he could even trust his mom anymore, especially if she was the one to report him to the PRT.
"I don't trust 'im," Greg replied. "Well, not him-him. I'm sure Cuts is an okay guy but I just met him so I can't really speak for that yet. You get me, right, Cuts? Can I call you Cuts?"
"I'd…" The PRT agent blinked, shaking his head slightly. "I'd prefer if you didn't, actually."
"Fair enough, Cuts. I'm just..." Greg sighed, shrugging his shoulders, "not that eager to let some PRT guy tell me what I am just because of some phony, anonymous report that I can't be sure actually exists."
The next few moments were filled with an almost oppressive silence as Greg finished speaking, his words almost hanging in the air as both adults found themselves blinking as they processed his statement. Greg folded his arms, staring between his mother and the agent as he tapped his fingers against his arm.
"Well," Agent Cutler broke the silence, "that's certainly a strong opinion but there is a way to clear all this up. It's rather quick. Just a simple test that we can do for parahumans."
"Hmm." The young blond gave the older man a sidelong glance, clicking his tongue as he folded his arms tighter over his chest. "Is it geometry? 'Cause, you know, I kinda suck at Geometry. So, I'm pretty sure I'll fail that one. Ask my mom. She's seen my last few report cards."
"Greg, stop it. Please." Susan turned slightly to face the agent, resting her mug on it's coaster. "A test? You mean something like a physical? Or a blood test?"
Greg raised an eyebrow at the mention of a physical, unsure of whether or not something like that would be able to detect if he was a cape or not. He wasn't sure if he could maintain the lie in the face of actual proof but it wasn't like they could prove he was Prodigy, or "White Knight" anyway. Either way, I could just say that I didn't know, right?
"No, no, nothing like that at all." Agent Cutler replied to Susan's question with a smile, rubbing the slight stubble visible on his chin. "Much less invasive. No prodding or poking or anything that uncomfortable."
"Oh, that sounds nice. Perfectly safe too, I assume." Greg frowned at the way his mother responded to Cutler, her tone coming off to him much the same way she would talk about going to the dentist. "Right, sweetie? Doesn't that sound nice?"
Greg hummed slightly, not really eager to respond considering his mom has already made up her mind. Fighting too hard would just make me look more suspicious, anyway.
You have gained 1 WIS.
"There is one slight stipulation," continued Agent Cutler, "that… Mr. Veder might have a problem with."
"What does my dad have to do wi…" Greg frowned slightly as the agent's words hit him. "Oh, yeah, you mean me. Ugh, brain fart, sorry about that."
Shaking his head, Greg thought over the man's words. "What do you mean, 'might have a problem with?'" I might have a problem with a lot of things, he mused to himself. If you haven't figured it out yet, the PRT showing up at my house is one of them.
After another pleading look from his mother, the teenager let out a long sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, drop another bomb on me, why don't you?"
"We can only hold the test down at the PRT Headquarters, so we'll have to head down there if you want to get down the bottom of this anytime soon." The PRT agent concluded his statement with a smile, one that Greg was really beginning to dislike.
Susan smiled at her son, her expression wavering slightly as she noticed Greg's own tight frown. "That shouldn't be a problem, right, Greg?"
"One question," Greg held up a finger as he fixed the agent with a raised eyebrow.
"Go ahead, Mr. Veder."
"... Am I being detained?"
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Spoiler: STATUS