Now that I had stability in my life, I was left with time to think beyond my immediate needs. I had time to think about what I wanted from this world. I never really was a person to ascribe goals to myself. I was content to leave life's lemons unsqueezed, settling with refreshing(stagnant) water. Unfortunately, my transmigration had left me with the choice of 'squeezing those damn lemons' or I'd pay for it.
That allegory was terrible.
First, what are my goals, how can I accomplish them and what are my motivations for those goals? Hmm..
1: Get Rich. This is long term, and I'm not sure how to accomplish this.
Motivation: Uh, who doesn't want to be rich?
2: Become a successful Musician. I can accomlplish this within a few months if I put time and effort into developing my skills. Motivation: Its a good source of tickets. Admittedly it felt really nice to get out there instead of being couped into the same routine.
3: Become a licensed hero. I'm honestly not sure how to accomplish this. I have no identity, no history and no credibility. I suppose until I can work out a solution I'll have to be a vigilante. I definitely need to learn how to fight at least, and becoming a villain really doesn't suit me.
Motivation: Tickets. Becoming a licensed hero would really help my goal of becoming rich. And tickets of course. Upgrades people, upgrades!
Writing down these goals should help me visualize what I need to do with my current situation. I never really understood the appeal, but writing it down does make me feel better about myself.
I lean back in my bargain bin chair, the cheap legs creaking ominously as I complete a full body stretch, the kind that leaves your body shivering and- agh fuck! Cramp!
I ride out the cramp and decide to get dressed for work. I arrive at the construction site after grabbing some breakfast. I'm definitely not cooking this early.
Well, we call it a construction site, but its more of a reconstruction site. Running a construction business is actually a lucrative business if you know how to work with it. Thats what the foreman said at least. I can understand what he means though.
Constant destruction caused by fights between villains and heroes, accompanied with available and cheap labor(tax free in my case) means that even in an industry as oversaturated as quirk era construction, there was always a demand for more.
I've only been working here for about 2 months and I've already worked on 12 different sites. Cuttently we're working on an elementary school that was caught in the crossfire between the C lister hero Bookbuster and some villain of the week with acid vomit. No one was hurt, and the only area affected was the library. Hell, I can hear classes going on while I work.
"Hey fountain boy, care to lend me a swall'r?" Someone yelled over the sound of moving equipment. We were really just using a small forklift to pile melted books up. Fixing the building would come later.
I turn over to the voice. Its Phil, one of the men I'd befriended during my work here. He was one of those dudes you could easily peg as a dad. Its like he fits perfectly into some magical father stereotype with the balding head, bad jokes and rotund stomach.
He was sitting on a tipped over bookshelf, chewing on a sandwhich with an already empty cup to the side. The cup was a black mug printed with some dad joke reading along the lines of 'mugger? I hardly know 'er!'
His lips twitched into a smirk as he noticed me reading it.
"Like the mug? My boy got it for me. I had to ask if his girl was pregnant."
I rolled my eyes as I picked up the mug. I held it in one hand and filled it with the other. Spray Water naturally produced water safe for drinking. I only had to make sure I didn't hose the cup down by accident since the ability was designed for more forceful applications. Still, it was a good control exercise.
I handed the beverage over. Phil hummed in thanks before taking a sip. Man's just like me, can't eat without a drink.
"Made it extra sweaty for you bossman." I spoke with faux-warmness. A brief moment passed before Phil coughed into the cup after inhaling a bit water.
*cough* "-seriously? 'S that what this is? You been giving me your sweat boy?"
His disbelieving grimace gave me a chuckle.
"Of course not, and you know I wouldn't do that to you Phil. Hows James anyways?"
"Oh, he's great! Finally done got settled into his new place. Thinking of marrying his girl. Did I tell you 'er name was Poppy?"
"Nope. Thats good for him though. Hows his leg been doing?"
His expression darkened a little. "'Ts fine. Healing up nicely. What happened.. wasnt. an accident. Daggerwings quirk going haywire conveniently after he gets scolded for wrecking his place? Horse piss."
"Daggerwings that B-lister right?" He nodded at that, still stewing in anger at the guy and silently munching on his ham sandwhich.
Well, its not surprising that an edgelord with a name like that would be have a temper problem. And thats coming from me, the guy ripped from his family and home and into this place. I'm his wet dream of a backstory.
The world of My Hero Academia was pretty close to being a post scarcity society with all the superpowers and whatnot, but when you live away from the nicer parts of town? Away from the shiny places like U.A.?
Not an utter cesspit fortunately, but it had its problems.
I clapped Phils back, pushing us to our feet to get us both away from those thoughts. "Come on, lets find something to do."
*CREAAAAK* a shudder of grinding wood echoes from above us. My head jolts up and my eyes meet caving wood. The entire roof of the library has taken on a purple tint, the seems between the boards turning into a goopy mess from the inside. The whole thing is quickly collapsing.
And we're pretty much smack dab in the middle of the damn library!
"Shit, the roofs collapsing!" Someone shouts. Thats enough to get me moving. Phils hot on my heels, our footsteps thundering towards the large hole in the libraries wall.
BOOM
A piece of wood jabs into my foot but I keep moving. I barely even notice it honestly, focused on booking it out there as fast as possible.
We barely make it out. Phil pants, hunched over from the 30 yard dash against death. I myself am not too bad off. Yay for jogging!
I turn around just in time for the library to collapse into a goopy mess. And its not just the library either. Some sections further into the school are purple as well.
"…what.. the.. hell was that?!" Yeah, echoing my thoughts perfectly there bub. I check my foot. Luckily it just took some skin, nothing more. I look around at my co workers. It seems everyone made it out. A miracle, that.
"I don't know, man. Everything just started gooping! That was…" I need to calm down. I take a few steadying breaths.
"So what do we do now?" Another worker asks, Joshua I think. I'm the first to reply.
"No clue. Get the foreman. Im sure as hell not going back in there though.." I trail off. Barely perceptible over the sound of groaning wood and destruction are muffled shrieks.
I'm pretty sure we got everyone out. Who..?
Wait. Its a school day. Classes are in session. Kids are in those classes! Children are about to be goopified!
"Somebody call the cops! There's kids in that school!" I shout. Joshua is quick on the uptake, whipping out his phone and dialing the police.
Shit, what do I do? There are kids in there. They could die! But I could too, this isn't an anime! I could help though, I've got Novice Medicine. But I could still die! Are their lives more important than mine?
Self preservation and the need to do something warred with each other. Its a unique feeling, like having one foot on a stably on ground and the other a tightrope over an abyss.
I felt a clasp on my shoulder. Phil clearly saw something in my expression and solemly shook his head.
"I know what yer' feeling. But we don't know what this stuff is. We wait until the heroes arrive. Got this quote from my pops; 'Doing the wrong thing with the right idea is a ticket to fucking things up even harder'. Said that after I punched a fuckers lights out for touching my wifes ass. Ended up missing James birth in jail. We can't go in blind." I noted that his voice contained a hint of self-reproach. Something about what he said echoed in my mind however.
'Doing the wrong thing with the right idea is a ticket to fucking things up even harder'
Ticket
TICKET
I'm coming kids!