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Bio Forge Master (Rewrite) by Throwaway1971

Books » Private Rated: M, English, Romance, Words: 137k+, Favs: 57, Follows: 75, Published: Dec 12, 2023 Updated: Mar 15, 2024

29Chapter 1: 01

Bio-Forge Master (Revamp)

Chapter 1

Gifts from the Forge:

-Make Me A Better Man! (Franken Fran)

-Commencing Operations (Franken Fran)

"Honestly, I would've preferred anything else really. But still… not a terrible beginning." Fran mused, "Would've been better if it was robotics, being a Bonesaw-esque tinker won't make me any fans, especially among the local PRT leadership."

Personally, Fran would've loved to have something to help him establish a proper identity, as other than a cheap flip phone, the clothes on his back, and a wallet with a couple hundred dollars he was essentially a ghost. Which came with benefits and downsides, which were lessened by living in Brockton Bay.

Turns out people generally didn't care if you have no proper identification as long as you don't openly break the law! Who knew? Though that was largely due to a combination of a dying economy, overworked and possibly corrupt police force, and a surplus supply of criminals and parahuman gang leaders and gangsters.

So, Fran easily got a job as a graveyard caretaker, ensuring that he had a steady supply of materials to tinker with as well as a small house (more of a shack really) in the graveyard. But what he really wanted more than anything was a companion.

Humans were social creatures after all, and plus it would make operation on himself easier instead of just operating on portions of his body at a time. Still the ad hoc surgery he made in the cellar of his home served its purpose… even if sanitation was a chore.

Still there was no rest for the wicked as the saying goes.

Sighing, Fran brushed his hair back before grabbing the essentials (keys, wallet, phone) and his bus pass. Honestly, he would rather be doing anything else instead of going out, but sometimes you gotta do stuff you don't enjoy. Besides he generally found it amusing when guys would hit on him thinking he was an exceptionally flat girl.

He'd always retort, "Okay, but I top. You got lube?" Their reactions always improved his mood!

Shaking his head with a chuckle, Fran left his shack and locked up, not like he had anything worth stealing, just some homemade surgical tools and some medical supplies he slowly gathered using his earnings from his caretaker job and his other part time job. Honestly, he wished he had gotten something from the Forge that allowed him to make a pocket dimension so he could just… turtle up and tinker.

Still there was no point in complaining about it, he'll either get something eventually or he'll break down and contact Toybox about getting one.

Getting on the bus Fran noticed the bus was largely empty, which was rather surprising given the time of day but suited him just fine. With the exception of the bus driver, a surly looking specimen that looked like he just wanted to say fuck it and go home, and a short mousy looking woman. A rather attractive mousy woman at that, and well outside of his right-hand Fran hadn't had any action since he came to the Bay, not to say he was going to put the moves on her… largely because he didn't have any confidence in his social skills.

Seeing all the available seats Fran had his pick, and initially he was just going to go sit in the back and keep to himself… then he noticed the woman seemed to be in something of a funk. Deciding to be a good Samaritan, which actually does exist in Brockton Bay, he walked down the aisle towards her.

After a moment of thought he sat down in a seat across from her, "You look like you need someone to talk to." He said after a few moments of thought.

She looked up at him clearly startled, apparently lost in her own mind, but shrugged and tried to stifle a yawn.

"Working the night shift?" Fran hazards a guess.

"No, no." She said, "Just sleepless nights."

"Ah." Fran nodded he was familiar enough with those (often caused by dreams of the local PRT dropping the hammer on him).

Fran had no doubt in his mind the woman picked up on his social awkwardness and possibly took pity on him, "I work as an interior designer, so that keeps me pretty busy." She said, "I suppose the stress doesn't help. You'd think they'd trust the person they hired to decorate for them, but no. Clearly, they know more than the trained professional, thankfully those are the minority… still stressful though." She added with a huff.

Seeing the olive branch, she extended Fran took it without hesitation, "That sounds rough, I hate dealing with people. Never really liked dealing with the public, suppose that's why my job and part-time job ensure I don't have to deal with idiots." He said dryly.

"Oh? And what is your job?" She asked curiously, "Oh, I never introduced myself. Kayden Anders." She added with a smile.

Fran very carefully didn't react to her name though inwardly he cried, "Why is Nazi Mom so cute!?"

"Ah, well I'm Fran Moss." He said, "And I work as a caretaker for the Brocton graveyard, the pay is ass but at least I don't have to rent an apartment."

"Oh?" At least she didn't look weirded out… probably because a job is a job, "And part time?"

"A morgue." He answered, "The pay is good, but it's full of stiffs and weirdos."

Kayden giggled faintly at his rather poor, at least in his mind, attempt at a joke.

"I couldn't imagine working in a morgue." She said with a smile, "I'd be creeped out, how do you deal with it?"

"Eh, it's not too bad. I'm mostly an errand boy, cleaning tools or getting coffee." Fran said with a shrug, "Not to say I haven't had to deal with weirdos that wanted to crack open a cold one, though I imagine those idiots are strung out on Merchant shit and wouldn't normally do it."

"That's disgusting!" Kayden said as her face scrunched up and all Fran could do was nod in empathetic agreement, honestly it was times like that that he really hated his part time job.

"Yeah, I mean… hopefully they're stoned or something." He said, "If not then it's probably a case of terminal stupidity."

Kayden, though still looking disgusted at the necrophiliac comment, smiled at Fran. Honestly it looked a lot better than that frown she had previously.

"Well, thanks… I needed that more than I thought. Perhaps we'll run into each other again someday?" She offered.

"Heh, perhaps. I don't have a vehicle, so I use the bus regularly." Fran said only slightly disappointed to not get Nazi Mom's phone number.

"Well, my stop is coming up." She said, "Take care of yourself." She added before she got up and moved to the front of the bus.

"Back at you!" Fran said with a smile as he moved to let the woman get up and into the aisle.

And as she walked forward Fran couldn't help but admire her very nice backside.

100 CP Gained!

100 CP Available!

Bank?

Y/N?

"Huh? Well, bank I guess." Though the lure of rolling called to Fran he resisted the urge with little difficulty.

Fran rubbed his nose as he contemplated his encounter with Nazi Mom. Granted he only ever read fanfiction he was aware of the 'big names' on the parahuman scene. Still, this wasn't just the fictional works of Wildbow or the more pleasant fanfictions of said setting.

This was real life and even Nazis weren't evil all the time. Fran knew better than to rely on his knowledge as a crutch. Shaking his head, he sat back down and waited for his stop, while pulling out his cheap phone to check the time. He really needed to get a new phone (maybe one of those DragonTech phones?) or get a damn wristwatch!

Fran just chuckled, getting a quick look from the driver before he focused on driving. No doubt thinking, he had a crazy on board or something. Honestly it wouldn't be the first time someone thought he was crazy; people normally gave him that look when he told them his primary job.

He still didn't get why people found his job as graveyard caretaker creepy…

Fran bit into Fugly Bob's Double-Double burger happily, honestly, he could never deny the allure of a good burger and despite what you'd think Fugly Bob knew how to make a damn good burger! As he enjoyed his meal, he couldn't help but wonder about the Celestial Forge and the Perks they gave him.

He wondered if his sudden willingness to commit Mad Science on himself and graverobbing for materials was the result of Make Me A Better Man and Commencing Operations? While he wasn't familiar with the manga Franken Fran from the name of the series and impressions, he got from the perks themselves well… body horror was to be expected. What would happen if he got any of the Techpriest perks? Would he suddenly start… worshiping technology and going all 'the flesh is weak' or something? Honestly, it was rather disturbing to know that it was entirely possible that the perks mess with his mind.

"Not to mention the danger of living in a city where the PRT regional leader has a very legitimate hatred of Biotinkers." Granted if he didn't start creative abominations, she might not purge him in fire… well hopefully anyways.

Traumatic events don't usually lead to stable individuals, especially when someone presses the trauma button.

Granted, Fran didn't have the 'Conflict Drive' or whatever that drove Parahumans to fight and do stupid shit, but he could deny that he felt the urge to tinker and create and with his current perks? Body horror and possible abominations were to be expected. Not to mention that now the thought of gathering fresh materials to work with didn't bother him as much as it really should.

He had no desire to apply for the Slaughterhouse, which actually sparked the idea of visiting an actual slaughterhouse and well 'helping himself' to some refuse. Or maybe steal away an animal? Thoughts to consider, with his skills organ rejection and failure simply didn't register.

Honestly the amount of shit he could do was somewhat overwhelming, lifesaving surgery, cosmetics, repair, and enhancement! Whatever field of surgery he went into promised he could make some serious cash, hell just from cosmetic surgery alone he would be set!

Never mind what he could do in the Adult Entertainment industry. Refractory period, he could shorten it. Fertility issues, he could either make you hyper fertile or not. Want a bigger dick or a tighter pussy? Utter child's play! Bigger breasts or fuller ass, honestly, he could probably sleep through the procedures.

Actually, the sheer versatility of his two perks alone were enough to give anyone an ego… Fran could only imagine how much worse it'd be as he got more!

"Perhaps I could do some work at the hospital, though that means I'd probably have to go through the PRT… well I can ask anyway. I might just be surprised, and they accept it, the hospital staff is pretty overworked even with Panacea." Fran thought.

All it would take is some cuts, he could convert his scalp into a wig that was held in place by some biological paste or magnets. Perhaps just dye them a different color and save himself the trouble? Yeah, that sounded like a better idea honestly, at least until he came up with a more permanent solution.

Still, that was neither here nor there, it could wait until he got home. Right now, he was planning on enjoying this heart attack on a bun, when he got a better set up, he could clean out his arteries. And not even the gun fight that broke out not too far away was enough to stop Fran from enjoying his meal.

After all, Fugly's shop was pretty much a concrete box, and as long as the idiots weren't using tinkertech bullshit no small caliber rounds were punching through his walls! And outside of Coil's mercs no one had genuine tinkertech guns, and no Fran really didn't count the occasional video game inspired guns from Leet as true weapons given their habit of failing… usually in an explosive manner.

"Actually, how is that man-child still alive anyway? I would've thought after that Grand Theft Auto clusterfuck he would've been lynched!" Honestly, he attributed Leet's survival to Uber's abilities.

While Fran didn't know much about the dimwitted duo that is Uber and Leet besides what he picked up on PHO. But what he did learn made him respect and pity Uber in equal measure, he had to be the Broest Bro to Ever Bro to stick with Leet after all the shit he pulled! Never mind the fact that the aforementioned GTA bit still had the sex workers of the Bay calling for his blood!

Honestly, Fran felt like if Uber simply broke things off with Leet he could go legit (maybe) or actually become a much more successful villain.

"Pity, if Leet wasn't so… Leet I could imagine myself vegging out and chilling with them playing games."

If anything, Fran started wondering where he could get some medical supplies for his own tinkering, with what he had (which was nothing more than basic first aid) there was very little he could actually do. In fact, it made him reconsider his previous thoughts of operating on himself… maybe. The temptation was really there…

"Ah, I'll just trust the Forge to not kill me." He just really hoped that this didn't come back to bite him in his, admittedly cute, ass.

But that still didn't change the fact that he needed medical supplies, tools were already taken care of… even if he would prefer some proper tools instead of handmade ones. He still needed other things: medicines, drugs, equipment, and various other odds and ends. Granted, Fran could rob a Rite-Aid for drugs and basic medical supplies, but he didn't really want to involve himself in the whole 'Cops and Robbers' game as he recalled Tattletale once calling it.

He'd like to stay neutral, well for the most part. If he got a chance he'd definitely fuck with the Nazis.

With a faint chortle of amusement Fran resumed eating and planning. Seeing as he didn't want to be labeled as a villain that meant his only real targets were the gangs, and the only real gang he could safely go after was the Merchants. They were the gang many newly triggered Parahumans cut their teeth on, well if they were wanting to be heroes of course. Their store houses would have plenty of drugs and money to fuel his tinkering.

Plus, the Merchants were hardly the most subtle of gangs, so finding their store houses wasn't too much of a challenge seeing as everyone in the gang sampled their own product.

Besides, unless the Forge decided to start throwing perks at him that would help resolve his materials situation, he needed a way to get things to make himself a proper sterile surgery suite that wouldn't out him as a 'Wetware' thinker or a Biotinker. The differences between the two were nonexistent really but they were there, and already Fran was the worst type of Biotinker.

An unrestricted one, or he will be with some more perks. Though he would really appreciate a way to make helpers as he doubted anyone other than perhaps Bonesaw would be interested in being his assistant…

That being said his brain started providing the means to create Sentinels, and not the Mutant-hunting giant robots either. And the process told him without a doubt that if anyone learned how they were made he'd get a Kill Order slapped on him so fast his head would spin… before it disappeared entirely!

Fran bit viciously into his burger to keep himself from shouting at his brain, he really didn't want to cause a scene. Again.

100 CP Gained!

200 CP Available!

Bank?

Y/N

"Bank." Fran thought as he took a sip on his soda.

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