Misfits: The Records of a Worm Campaign

AN1: So, I'm running a campaign for Worm. This is a campaign diary slash story based of what my players are doing, with as few creative liberties of their decisions as possible. Some world lore as well some Shard Powers have been slightly tweaked and re-imagined for the sake of working with the Genesys dice system (which is honestly great for a cinematic tabletop role playing). SO while it’s based off of standard Canon (my players have no CLUE what kind of a shitshow they have signed up for playing Worm, all of them are new to the series), there are a few AU elements.


However, I AM currently overseas visiting family, so uploads may not be routine until I get back in about a month. (I do have audio recording of our sessions tho, so I won’t be forgetting details easily)


For those of you who are interested in the way that the system works, or already know how this game system works (for those in the know, it’s essentially the same as Fantasy Flight Games’ version of Star Wars tabletop, the dice work the same way. I also use the Force Destiny Point rules for further benefits/complications)


I'll include a compact version of all the players stats/char details on the bottom as a separate authors note for those who care from chapter to chapter. Eventually that will include NPCs I suppose.

Also I have a Patreon, which I plug because times be rough. Also my players are obsessed with playing this campaign for some reason, so I'll actually have content to framework off of to try and guarantee consistent uploading. Just need to flesh some stuff out and simplify some other stuff. Praying to the Writing Gods that they don't hit me with a block.

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BEGIN - FORMATION 1.1

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Accessing E6.dai7 = Evan McIntyre - Memory Segment 2D-94X

...Before I was born, my parents wanted a little girl. They were old-fashioned so they didn't believe in using ultrasound to check what gender I would be. However, they were for some reason convinced that I would be a girl.

Clearly, that wasn't the case as what they got was a beautiful blonde haired, blue-eyed baby boy.

And honestly? That was okay with them.

Perhaps the only complication was that they had prepared, maybe a little bit too much, for their precious little baby girl.

For a while, 99 if not 100%, of all of the baby pictures in the house of me depicted what looked like a perfectly beautiful Aryan girl.

But while it was okay and cute for a baby boy to be dressed as a baby girl, once I became a little past five years of age, it was no longer okay for me to wear pretty dresses. It wasn't considered right for me to have my old stuffed rabbit. They thought it unnatural that I liked pretty pastel colors and wanted bows and bonnets for my birthday rather than action figures and other such toys.

Without a solid solution, they sent me off to an all boys boarding school somewhere up near New York.

The state, not the Big Apple.

Nobody in their right mind sends their children where The Teeth live.

During that time I was the weird kid that went about scrounging up fashion magazines and Victoria’s Secret catalogues, not to jerk off to, but to sketch up and draw dresses and other such things.

Obviously, I got bullied fairly often, but it wasn't too bad, as my roommate was surprisingly very understanding of my hobbies and actually shared a bit of a similar interest.

We survived because we had each other to lean on. We survived because we had each other.

Although we were the butt end of most jokes, we still found moments to have fun. It was us against the world, but… I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

But it was during that time I... I'm sorry.

Even now… even as I think of him now, I just see him, you know?

Dangling by his neck from...

...Sorry Beck. I don't really want to talk about this anymore.

---

March 15, 2011 - Winslow High School: Lunch Period

“...Are you sure you don’t want help with your lunch, Chris?” Evan asked for the fifth time.

It was a sentence that usually would suggest that the speaker was hungry and wanted to get some extra food from a friend, or the friend in question was unable to finish their lunch but was being stubborn about finishing it.

In this case it was half of the latter.

Christopher Long huffed, his short cropped hair barely covering a blindfold covering his eyes, as he fumbled about with a plastic spork and a tupperware filled with homemade pork belly fried rice.

“I’m not gonna learn how to get better at it unless you let me practice.” he stated to his friend, missing his mouth by mere centimeters, sticking a bit of rice and a bit of finely diced carrot to his chin.

“Look, I’m just more concerned that you’re not gonna have enough time to eat at this rate.” Evan rolled his baby blues, “It’s 10 minutes before fifth period and you’re only about halfway done.”

“I… fine. Alright.”

The two boys were not the only ones at the table, however.

A young goth girl, her hair dyed black with streaks of neon blue and red, grumbled as she scribbled something fierce into a thick notebook that had seen some better days.

Some pages were half torn out and others were barely pages at all with how roughly an eraser sometimes scrubbed away some formula or sketch.

“Alright, I’m done. I’m getting nowhere right now with this.” She declared as she shut the notebook shut, a stray page flying out.

She snatched it up before frowning and tearing it into shreds and dumping it into her milk carton.

Another boy at the table raised a brow at her, his light brown skin creasing as he did so. Then he began making some hand gestures and signs to the goth girl.

“Yeah, Charles, I’m fine. Just another headache.” She sighed. “Which is also part of what I wanted to talk about. Because we’ve all been dancing around it with each oth-”

“Yeah, the fact that we’re all ca-”

“Dwayne!” The girl threw her milk carton at the last member of their table, a brown haired crew cut slapped onto a very Jock-like boy wearing a letterman with the fuzzy Winslow patch torn off. “Shut the fuck up!”

The boy slapped the carton out of the air, a weird almost syrupy ooze leaking from the cardboard as it hit the ground, getting a look of disgust from his admittedly above average face.

“Goddamn it Becky! What did we tell you about yogurt at people?!” He hissed angrily with the faintest trace of a lisp.

“It’s milk.” She bit back, “This cafeteria shit is just gross. And it’s BECK!”

“Yeah, whatever.” Dwayne sniffed, leaning back on the back legs of his chair, crossing his arms. “None of you are gonna talk about shit without me stirring the pot anyways.”

“...I fucking hate it when you’re actually right.” Beck(y) leered. “But it’s a good thing that nobody else wants to sit in this corner of the cafeteria, so… yeah. While D- in Algebra one over here-”

“Hey!”

“-contemplating on how he’s gonna pass sophomore year, the rest of us decent folk can talk about what the hell we’re gonna do about it.”

Chris chewed the sporkful of fried rice before speaking, “I don’t know why we gotta talk about it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Beck(y) popped a few pills of baby aspirin, “We go to fucking Winslow. If anybody gets it in their heads that we have powers, they’ll drag us off to whatever gang they already suck the teat of-”

“Ew, Beck.” Dwayne’s face contorted.

“-so that they can skip their initiation and become some loser captain or whatever. We gotta stick together here and-”

This time Beck(y) Carter was not interrupted by the former Ace Center of the Winslow Football team, but by a large burst of shrill laughter and jeering coming from the bathrooms not far away from the cafeteria.

“...What’s going on?” Chris asked.

“Looks like… probably the Terrible Trio doing something stupid again.” Evan’s eyes narrowed as he spooned some more rice, “You’d think that somebody would have done something, but seems Barnes’ dad is way too good at his job or something.”

“It’s bullshit is what it is.” Beck(y) spat, “Like they still haven’t done shit about you and that one chick being locked into-”

Chris stood up abruptly before grabbing his support cane and making his way over to the source of the sound, knocking over a spoonful of food from Evan’s hand in the process.

“Here we go.” Evan sighed as he began to get up and follow his friend.

Dwayne rocked on his chair once or twice before standing up, a hulking six foot one.

He grunted as he cracked his neck before walking over to follow his companions.

The two boys caught up with their blindfolded friend before hearing the following:

“-a good look for you, Hebert. Wet dog is your best look yet.” a girl’s voice could be heard echoing from the girl’s bathroom.

“Wet bitch more like.” Another girl jeered. “It explains the smell.”

“Nothing’s changed about how you’re referring to her.” A melodious voice snarked, “Don’t waste time with an insult without meaning.”

“Yeah, Rachel, don’t just say whatever because you want Emma to like you.”

“Ugh.” Evan’s nose wrinkled out of disgust.

“It’s Emma and her main hanger on.” Chris’ voice was absolutely flat as he spoke through grit teeth. "Doesn't sound like Hess is here."

A heavy and angry snort could be heard behind them as Dwayne seemed to almost grow taller as a vein bulged dangerously from his turtleneck covered neck to his cheek, tinged with a faint gunmetal grey.

“Oh. Yeah. Forgot about you and, uh-”

“Don’t worry.” Chris cut Evan off, his free hand kind of fluttering in the air as he instinctively reached for Evan’s shoulder.

The blindfolded teen reached out for the wall, already knowing that there was a fire alarm right between the doors of the girl’s and boy’s restroom. Before either of his friends could say anything to stop this action, it was already too late.

Chris pulled down on the handle, the T-shaped piece of metal missing most of the white paint that was meant to make it stand out from the red casing.

“Oops.”

A deadpan performance if there ever was one.

The alarm began to ring, a shrill ringing through the air (that Dwayne might angrily compare to Madison’s voice).

What caught everyone off guard after that was the fact that a few seconds later, all of the sprinklers started going off.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“OMG! MY PERM!”

“AAAAHHH! MY MAKEUP!”

In the midst of screaming teenage girls panicking from inside the shithole that was a public high school restroom, Dwayne squeezed behind the door to the girl’s restroom and the wall.

As the flood of panicking girls began running out of the bathroom, a third party brand Timberlands boot snuck out to catch a petite brunette by the ankle, tripping her.

The petite girl in question, being Madison, promptly proceeded to land flat on her face with a large thump.

“OW! What the hell-”

“Omigosh! Madison! Your nose is bleeding!”

“What? NO!!! GROSSGROSSGROSSGROSS!”

The gaggle of girls, becoming more and more soaked as time went on, began pulling Madison up before dragging her away slipping on the wet linoleum as they did so.

The three boys waited a bit before seeing (Sans Chris) a thin, tall girl with (now soaked) black curly hair shuffle awkwardly out of the bathroom, covered in the same gross oozy, sludge-like cafeteria milk.

“You ok, Taylor?” Chris asked, facing about 30 degrees in the wrong direction.

Taylor Hebert pursed her thin lips.

“...yeah. Thanks.”

She paused as if she wanted to say something more before taking a wet handful of cheap bathroom paper towels and walked away wiping off the milk-sludge.

A pair of wet footsteps sloshed over the sound of sprinklers.

“Well I hope you’re happy.” A wet Beck(y) huffed, clutching a black denim bookbag to her chest in an attempt to keep it as dry as possible.

Charles signed that he also wasn’t very happy about whatever they did to the sprinklers or being soaked.

“I didn’t do anything to the sprinklers.” Chris said after the mute to blind translation, “All I did was slip next to the fire alarm. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

The hallway was left with only the sound of dripping water.

---

“I know I said there was a Fugly Bob’s, like 5 minutes away, but dammit, this is the third time this week.”

“Whatever.” Beck(y) pushed the doors open, “At least here we can get a private place to talk, unlike the CAFETERIA!”

“Hey! Welcome to- Oh! Hello, Becky-”

“BECK!”

“-you want that spare room in the back right? The manager said that it’s fine as long as-”

“Yeah, yeah. Gimme a number 5, two number 3s, and four number 8s.”

The employee dressed in a white and red outfit nodded before jotting down the order. He then gestured to the side room labeled VIP, decorated by an old, out-of-print, poster depicting the Triumvirate.

In truth, this branch of Fugly Bob’s was owned by an old family friend of Beck(y)’s mother, who was a bit of a cape enthusiast. Being a block away from the Brockton Bay PRT Headquarters, the owner thought that it would be great for capitalizing on all of the tourists that come into Brockton Bay on the regular, and so had decorations of capes from all over Brockton Bay displayed everywhere.

Which, wasn’t exactly WRONG business choice, but…

“Oh, almost forgot. Make them all jumbo sized.” Beck(y) added.

“Certainly. And we’ll make sure to add the nuggets to the number 8s.”

“Can’t have onion ring platters without chicken nuggets.” Beck(y) nodded sagely.

Dwayne rolled his eyes, as he grabbed one of the jumbo meal’s “Chug Buckets” and began filling it at the soda fountain.

“Hey, sparky! Get me the Challenger! I’ma beat it this time, I can feel it.” Dwayne called over his shoulder, the plastic bucket of iced tea sloshing in his hands.

“On it!” The employee responded.

Chris just fumbled for the handle to the “VIP” room.

“He’s not gonna finish it.” he said, opening the door after some effort.

“Of course not. That thing’s like twenty pounds.” Evan replied, fingers sweeping through his golden locks, brushing the hair away from his eyes. “I bet five bucks that he can’t finish half.”

“No way, that’s a sucker’s bet. Ten bucks that he finishes just over half.” Chris chuckled.

Charles just gestured in sign language, making Beck(y) laugh.

“Our bet’s twenty that he gets cucked with three pounds left.”

“You’re on!” Evan laughed, entering the room and grabbing a chair.

“Fuck all of you!” Dwayne frowned before taking a swig of his tea, the dark amber liquid sloshed about in his green soda bucket.

They all sat down in the private room and food was brought to their table after a few minutes, during which Beck(y) pulled out some sort of gadget that appeared to have been a barcode, a calculator, and a smartphone gutted and mashed together.

A red light washed over the walls before Beck(y) sat down with a satisfied smirk.

“So, the elephant in the room we didn’t exactly have time to address…”

“Aside from Beck, who is a freshman, and I, a junior,” Evan continued, “The rest of you are sophomores and happen to share the same classes. And ever since the locker incident-”

Chris traced a few faint, thin scars on his forearms absentmindedly.

“-we’ve all been a bit more prone to… mistakes.” Evan continued. “And even though I don’t think any of us wanted to advertise to each other that we… may have developed a few, er, tricks up our sleeves, we’ve all slipped up…”

He glanced down at the scanner sitting next to Beck(y)’s half picked plate of food.

“Hey!” Beck(y) interrupted, indignantly, “I’ve only used this stuff in front of you guys. I’m not The Wall who’s been suspended twice because he couldn’t control his strength and tore locker doors off their hinges.”

“Well most of us-”

“Fuugh uu.” Dwayne chewed through a twenty pound heart attack. “Washn gnna leav Rris in duh roc-”

“Chew first, then talk. That’s so gross.” Beck(y)’s face twisted uncomfortably.

“-have been subtle. And we can all agree that all the lockers in school were publicly declared to have needed to be replaced MUCH too long ago, so people were forced to give the former Winslow varsity team’s Center-”

“Mm’ da Wall dammih” Dwayne grumbled through another mouthful of food.

“-the benefit of the doubt, but let’s face it. We’re not the most careful people sometimes. But maybe because all of us are shunned one way or another, we are the closest thing to friends that you can safely have in a shithole like Winslow."

“Which is the one good thing that's probably come out of that dump.” Beck(y) laughed as she chewed on a fry.

“Let's not get sidetracked further.” Chris said as he fumbled with the paper wrapping of his hamburger.

“Yeah, yeah.” Beck(y) agreed, waving a long fry around like a baton. “But you all know what this means, right? If we don't do something to guarantee our safety, or I guess, freedom. Any one of the random E88 sheeple- uh, no offense to your folks, Evan.”

“None taken, Beck.” Evan gave a half-hearted smile.

“The ABB posers, or Merchant scum-buckets that's get to smart for their own good is going to try and sell us out for street cred.”

Charles flashed his pearly whites as he mimed, “You mean they'll sell out Dwayne on the corner for street cred?” in ASL.

Becky snorted, but didn't bother translating for the rest of the group.

“So we should do something, by ourselves, for ourselves. We could either do the smart thing, and join the PRT Ward's or whatever you call it. Or…

"Oooor?" You could barely hear Dwayne's voice through all the meat, but the group of misfits had gotten used to this from the self titled The Wall months ago.

“We could do the cool thing. Make our own group!” Beck(y) declared confidently.

Evan softly scoffed as he began picking at the onion rings.

“I can’t say I feel all that confident when the idea’s pitched by the girl that just wants her parents to yell at her and discipline her.” Evan paused as he chewed on a onion ring. “You sure this isn’t just another one of your schemes for their attention because your genius plan to periodically spend 80 bucks at a time at a fast food restaurant doesn't seem to wave any red flags at them?”

“I was aiming for the low key concern that I might have become a Merchant girl and is going through constant weed munchies! Or teenage pregnancy hunger mood thingys! I donno, I just want them to be human fucking beings! Not God damned perfect parent droids!”

“Droids? Um. Well. Family issues aside, it's honestly not a bad idea. But maybe, before we jump the gun here, we should all discuss what exactly it is that we can all do?” Evan suggested helpfully. “You know, so we can all maybe think about how we can, uh, work at… something?”

“Well, mine's a little obvious.” Becky gestured to her weird scanning tool. “I guess I'm a, what's it called? A tinker? It's weird, like I get lessons on science that's like, WAY beyond our current understanding of, well everything. It's kind of. Well, kind of a mind trip. I keep getting alloys and hints of chemical formulas pop up in my head.”

“Okay, that’s neat.” Evan nodded, “I guess I'll go next. Well, actually I've kind of been using this to help boost some of my test scores amongst other things, but oh, well, I can help with things. I think that's the best way I can describe it?”

“What, like a buff?” Becky asked.

“A what?”

“You know, a buff. Like boosting a skill? A stat? Like in an MMO? Have you never played WOW?! Wait.

"Waitwaitwaitwait can you boost powers?”

Something manic gleamed in Beck(y)’s eyes.

“I... Don't know?” Evan started scooting backward as Beck(y) kept leaning forwards.

“Oh that's so cool, we got to test that.”

“Maybe not with my power.” Chris murmured, seeming to lose his appetite.

“Why not?”

“I think I’m a… is it called a Blaster? Uh, if we find a safe spot later. I'll show you. Hopefully.”

“Uh... Sure.” Beck(y) nodded. “Well, what about you Charles?”

Charles shrugged as he made his hands glow like the sun, straining everyone's eyes, before he fired a little beam from one of his fingers at a chug bucket.

These buckets were a collectible item, and each bucket was colored in a neutral PRT blue and had a caricature of a corresponding PRT hero.

While Becky had drawn a villainous mustache and horns on her Armsmaster bucket, Charles's bucket showed a man dressed in red that appear to be now running away from the scorch mark left behind by the little finger laser.

“Nice.” Becky grinned. “That actually makes me think of this one design that keeps popping up in my head, only that it has a stun-”

“Ugh, fuck I was so close. Ugh.” Dwayne groaned as a little less than a quarter of his Challenger Burger was left behind. “I thought I’d beat it this time too… Guess I'm next.”

He then wiped his hands clean using a napkin before they turned into a solid gunmetal grey. His already large meaty palms and fingers expanded to almost twice the size as they were before.

“I can do that all over,” he said proudly. “All over. The Wall can’t be stopped. The Wall has become better than The Wall.”

“To what? Like a fortress?” Chris shook his head as his lips flapped searching for his chug bucket’s straw before Evan quietly turned the straw around to meet his friend’s lips.

“Nah, not like that Chris. Like... a rock. Yeah. I’m not just The Wall anymore, dude… I’m The Rock.”

“What the hell are you... Never mind. Putting Dwayne being Dwayne aside.” Beck(y) rolled her eyes as she brought out a laptop and began typing something into it. “This isn't bad. We can make this work. Now, the first thing we need is-”

“A base?” Chris chimed in it, interrupting Becky.

“Names? Outfits!?” Evans eyes seem to glint at the thought.

“No. A van. A big one. Preferably a panel van.” Beck(y) declared, getting some confused looks.

Dwayne looked the most confused.

“What, like a pedo-van?”

“Fuck you, Dwayne... well, yeah. I guess. I want a pedo-van.”

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END - Formation 1.1

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AN2: So there it is.

I think I’m going to upload these in smaller chunks like this. Although I prefer to upload in larger chapters, clearly that has not done great things for my fanfiction writing track record.

Well, here is the details to the PC who’s memory snippet started this chapter (PS Every chapter is going to start with small snippets that elaborate on character’s mentalities/backstories or be small side stories)

I will have a condensed character sheet at the end of each chapter like this. The future ones will have less elaboration tho.

Name: Evan McIntyre

Cape Identity: Spirit (as in a Spirit Cheer Squad, Smells like Teen Spirit, etc)

Cape Outfit: Wavy blonde wig (Tinker modifications to not fall off and to frame face perfectly even in most combat situations). Navy blue and white girl’s Cheerleader outfit with a simple white S over the chest. White skin tight gloves and calf length boots. Made using a mix between conventional soft cotton and a synthweave material designed by a certain Beck(y) Carter. (You can look up babytalkstore online and look at the cheer dress no team logo two feet ahead for an idea what the outfit looks like, if you care to)

Attributes (Stats as they are represented in my campaign, 2 is average human. 1 is a functional but less developed. 3 is anywhere from above average to genuinely talented. 4 is superhuman or a one in a million talent. It IS possible for a normal human to reach a 4 without a Shard, but VERY difficult. 5 is outside of the human spectrum. 6 is the max stat that a character is allowed to possess. 7 if they are boosted by cybernetics, but even then, is GM disgression. It is IMPORTANT to note that while stats can be upgraded at Char creation, they are difficult to upgrade from that point onwards, and nobody was allowed to start with a 5)

Brawn: 1 (Brawn affects Physical Damage, Soak which is Damage Mitigation, as well as maximum Wounds or HP)

Agility: 3 (A mix of dexterity, balance, reflect, coordination, etc.)

Intelligence: 2 (How smart or how well learned a character is. A great stat as a lot of skills are Int based)

Cunning: 2 (How mischevious/tricky/devious a character is. Think Wisdom in DnD with Deception linked to this skill instead of Presence, the Charisma equivalent)

Willpower: 2 (Linked to Strain, which is a mix between the small not actually life threatening injuries that Wound represents, as well as mental fatigue. In this campaign we are also using this as a pool for power usage, as all powers require Strain to use. Fear not, however, as strain is easy to recover, unlike Wounds/HP)

Presence: 4 (How much a character is able to stand out/lead others/be likeable, etc. The Charisma DnD comparison. The Bard Butter.)

Shard Name: Mimic Gemini

Shard Purpose: Emphatic Resonance Amplifier/Double (Primary Stat Used: Presence)

This Shard can lock onto the “spiritual” wavelengths that emanate from other shards. By syncing up with their signature, the host of this Shard can copy then boost the Shard power output in another host without forcing it to expend additional energy.

Long term resonance can cause target Shards to regain small amounts of the “Cosmic Fuel” that each Shard originally started with but has already expended.

Can also mimic other powers to a lesser extent once a Shard Wavelength has been memorized, but this power is currently not available to the host.

However, while it was not the original power of this Shard, the nature of the host has allowed Shard: Mimic Gemini to not merely boost other people’s Shards, but their actual skills.

Classification: Trump/Master/Shaker

Class Skills (meaning cheaper to buy new ranks in EXP wise):

Ranged Light (throwing weapons, one handed guns, etc)

Charm (ability to seduce/convince people to do things for you)

Cool (Keeping cool/calm in the face of danger, also used for initiative when the player has had time to ready an ambush or plan)

Coordination (balance, reflex, acrobatics, etc)

Perception (self explanatory)

Vigilance (how quickly one can react to a sudden change, also use for initiative when reacting or surprised)

Deception (Ability to lie. Cunning, not Presence)

Leadership (Ability to guide people and command others in the heat of combat)