The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that I felt weak. Granted, I wasn't the best at waking up. But I felt like my body was moving at half-speed for some reason. I genuinely wondered if I was sick.
The second thing I noticed was that my bed felt strange. It wasn't the simple futon I was used to sleeping on, just a good soft pad between me and the floor. Instead it was a big mattress with a strange smell to it. No springs either.
The last thing I noticed was in my own mind. Something like… I don't know. Like how a song can hum in the back of your mind, without you realizing, but if you focus on it, it will blare to life, rebounding in your brain.
But when I did it, instead I saw words, clear as day.
[Chaos is a ladder. The first step is free…]
A one notched step of many faces.
[Object Attraction]
[Trash-Ability]
[MHA - You can slowly draw small objects toward you, useful for when you don't want to get up from the bed to grab the remote.]
In my head, the familiar sound of dice on a table played. I slowly sat up, trying to figure out how insane I'd become. I felt so confused. Half of me wanted to call for a maid to bring me water, the other half was wondering when the fuck I had gotten used to maids.
Weakly rising up, I walked over to a nearby mirror and stared at it.
"Wha-..."
I was SKINNY. In my head, I was supposed to be big. Not tall, but thick, with muscles layered under fat, like a powerlifter or boxer gone to seed. Here, I was basically a twig. And a very young twig at that, not a 30 year old bearded guy.
"What the flying fuck-" I grabbed at my mouth. I sounded so whiny!
Just then, the sound of dice stopped rolling in my head. I was still trying to deal with the weird sense of duality in my head. In one longer and more clear life, I was an American nerd. In another, I was a minor noble? A kid with little to no standing above the common peasantry, who had once tried to fight a much larger man for a girl I loved, a redheaded beauty who was going to marry a Northern bastar-
"Oh fuck me, I'm Petyr Baelish." And god, my voice was so weird! And British!
[Accolade for your house: Discover who you are.]
A one notched Step of Many Faces Appears before you. The step is yours to take…
…And apparently I was locked into a gacha system. One of the worst systems… ahhhhhhhhh-
I silently gaped at the mirror for a full minute before I spun around and walked towards a desk. The room I was in wasn't big or anything, but it wasn't a hovel. The desk was neatly laid out, with a good chair for me to drop myself into, breathing hard.
What in the hell was going on?
I mentally stared at the words in my own head. So that was, what, three things in my brain? My own memories, Petyr's much younger and weaker ones, and a gacha thing?
And why was it using such flowery language? What did 'the step is yours to take' mean?
Mentally I tried to, I don't know, 'touch', the words? To, I don't know, make it do something-
Click!
The sound of rolling dice in my head, followed by them stopping. I stared at the words. Then blinked.
[Name: Garlic Infused]
[Trash-Passive]
[Description: The next Vampire that bites you is really going to regret it ]
"That's… that's so completely useless to me," I whimpered.
Not a good start to my day. Not even a bit.
According to my Petyr memories (Also, what a fucked up way to spell Peter), I had just gotten my ass kicked by Brandon Stark because Petyr had a completely unhealthy obsession with Catelyn.
I mean, I get it, I'd had crushes before, but the kid was next level.
Of all the people to be inserted into, it had to be this piece of shit…
Anywho, Petyr's plan from there was to manipulate Lysa, the sister who actually did like him, to get himself a job under Jon Arryn, then work his way up the ladder through trickery and deceit.
All of which I did NOT want anything to do with.
The guy was so freaking petty and jealous of everyone. I wanted to give myself a noogie honestly.
He-I-We, whatever you wanted to call this weird joined version of us, had been banished to our holding in the Vale in the aftermath, to a place called the Fingers. Specifically, the smallest peninsula, or the smallest 'finger'.
I'd always kind of wondered where the name 'Littlefinger' came from. Anyways, in the original timeline, from what little I remembered, Petyr had spent the Robert Rebellion scheming and conniving, while other folk were dying. He didn't know how lucky he was, really. He was just wealthy enough that he didn't need to worry about his next meal, but poor enough that he didn't have to involve himself with the wars and politics of the rest of the region.
In a less horrifying setting, I would have taken advantage of that. Set up a few things, make a cushy bit of moolah, maybe marry and have some kids, and then just live large.
But Winter was coming. I couldn't just sit on my ass when the literal ice apocalypse zombies were headed my way. I had to prepare, to build up, make alliances, make sure that I and the world could survive what was coming. I had to do something, which was the thing that I decided on about an hour after arriving in the world.
Click
[Accolades for your house: Man with a Plan!]
A Two notched step of Skilled hands appears before you. The step is yours to take…
Oh cool. Right, I had the cheating thing. I'd gotten two different things from it earlier. One was that useless garlic blood one. If I'd been in Buffy or Underworld, awesome. Here, I'd be able to season food in a gross way.
The other was…
I lifted a hand towards a bookshelf across from me. With a bit of focus, a book came wobbling through the air towards me. Slowly. VERY fucking slowly.
After a long moment, a book on the lineages of Vale lords landed in my hand. Sighing, I looked over the skill in my mind. Inko Midoriya's weak pulling telekinesis. Welp, that wasn't useless.
On a whim, I 'pressed' on the new ticket I'd gotten. I guess whenever I did something the flowery talking gacha system deemed significant, it gave me a chance to roll for a new thing. Which was cool, if very random.
Click!
Once the dice roll ended, I stared at what I'd gotten. And my eyes practically shot out of my sockets.
[Lingshu Chin Na]
|Common Skill|
Kengan Ashura - You are a practitioner of the Lingsu Chin Na, a special Chinese martial arts style based around striking the acupoints of the opponent to deliver debilitating blows without the need for greater strength. Using knowledge of the human body, the user lands quick and precise finger jabs towards the acupoints to debilitate the target with each strike, making it incredibly effective and deadly when used properly. But the further a target's biology deviates from human biology, the harder the martial art will be to use without studying.
"Holy fuck!" I stood up, staring at the words. And then the skill, I don't know, hit? Like suddenly getting a memory. I stared at my hands. They were small, practically useless, at the end of very thin forearms, but I now had memories of how to help that. I had knowledge of pressure points, but also of how to train to be able to take advantage of those pressure points, where to press and how deep to do things like disable limbs, knock them out, even kill.
Granted, it wasn't perfect. Most folks around here fought in armor, and I didn't have the trained body to go with the skills, so I couldn't take full advantage. But it was still fucking cool, and now I basically had a training primer in my head to be able to get to that point.
According to my memories, while my keep wasn't the richest, we had some of the small basics needed to be a minor lord in Westeros. Might as well use them!
I headed out, opening the door to my room and rushing through the halls. A maid whose name Petyr never bothered to learn, jumped in surprise when I came rushing past her. "Oh, Lord Baelish-"
"Be so good as to get someone to bring me hay, a large log, and some canvas bags. And a shovel, will you?"
The maid stared at me like she had to process what I'd said. Oh right, Petyr wasn't the type to be any kind of polite to his staff.
"I'll be outside waiting."
Once the servants (I had five of them, apparently. Petyr was furious there were so few, I was just happy I didn't have to do my own dishes) brought out the stuff I asked for, I dug a hole with my weak teenage twink arms, buried the log into the dirt, then wrapped the hay around the log, followed by the canvas bags. Just like that, training dummy.
"Milord," one of the male servants said as he watched my dirty sweaty form finish up the new dummy. "What are you doing?"
"Preparing," I didn't need much to sell the lie to follow. "Brandon Stark made a fool of me during our duel. As much as it galls me to admit, that was my fault," I pressed a hand to the dummy, pushing and pulling, before nodding. It would do. "I neglected my training. But I am young. I have time to make up for that."
"As… you say, milord," the servant mumbled. He seemed less confused now and more resigned to deal with my bullshit.
I looked over the log, then ran back into the keep. When I came back out, I had a piece of charcoal in my hand. I rubbed it on different sections of the dummy, based on my memories from Lingshu Chin Na. Once done, I nodded to myself, then began stretching.
Which was… a tragedy. Holy SHIT I wasn't flexible. The servants stared at me oddly, then went to do their duties, leaving me in a field to try and figure out why my spine was made of tinfoil and crackers.
Once I was done making some Chinese martial artists in the heavens cry in dismay at my bad form, I began to train. I did push-ups, pull-ups from a tree, simple cardio exercises, then practiced with the log, punching it with my hands, then tapping the areas I'd marked with charcoal as quickly and accurately as I could.
It was not a good performance, but a lifetime in a modern world had taught me that slow and dedicated work would get me there. That or steroids, but those weren't available.
At the end of my very first training session, with the sun high in the sky, I took deep breaths while lying in the grass. I felt… tired, a bit queasy, but good. I hadn't done anything outside my weak body's ability, just enough to make my muscles sore tomorrow. My Lingshu Chin Na internal training primer agreed that this was the stuff kids who started out did.
All in all, I felt good! I'd grab a bite to eat, then continue training once I was less tired, focusing on technique instead of-
Click
[Accolades for your house: Nerd Gains!]
A one notched Step of Armaments appears before you. The step is yours to take…
[Threaded Cane]
|Common Arsenal|
Bloodborne - One of the weapons of the workshop hunters used to face off against the beasts. In its cane form, the threaded cane still has a sharp edge enough to hurt beasts, but when its trick form is revealed the cane splits into numerous blades arranged into a whip that can be used to rend and shred flesh from a distance.
The gacha was happening again? And I hadn't pressed it, it just went automatic. I stared at it, reading the words in my own mind. And as I finished them, something heavy fell out of non-existence, landing on my abdomen.
"Gah!" I spat out, coughing and turning over to stare at what had fallen. "Oh… Oh that is dope as fuck."
A threaded cane had landed on my stomach and now lay on the grass. I grabbed it, only to let out a huff of air at how heavy it was. Groaning a bit, I lifted it up and stared at the handle. When I pressed a switch in the handle, the whole thing fell apart, the cane turning into a series of sharp blades on a long chain.
"Oh yeah," I pressed the button again, only to wince at how fast the cane flicked back together, losing my grip on it. "Shit. Uh, I mean, it's all coming together."
Not a perfect start. But I had something. Just had to survive the game of thrones and the winter, with no one killing, maiming, or ruining me.
Time to get to work.