Spark of Magic Worm

Mist set his mug of hot chocolate on his desk and sat down at his computer, ready to start gaming now that he had something to drink. He opened the character sheet of the twinked out combat monster he'd built to gank one of the PCs, knowing at least one of them would pick a fight rather than trying to talk their way out of the encounter he was planning. He scowled when he got a corrupted file warning. "Don't give me that shit," he complained as he hit the button to try to recover the file.

He took a sip of his hot chocolate as he waited for the program to do its magic. He sighed in relief when he got a message telling him that the file had been successfully recovered. 'Okay, this is going to be…" he trailed off when the file opened and it wasn't his character sheet. 'You've been selected to be a Magical Rival, your main schools of magic are Restoration, Enchanting, and Translocation. I've arranged an interview and a costume for you…" he trailed off as he found himself standing in what looked suspiciously like a modern public bathroom with a bit of a bit of a headache and strange glowing mathematical formulas dancing in his vision.

Mist spun around when he caught sight of a shadowy figure out of the corner of his eye. He took a breath and tried to calm down when he realized that he was just looking at a mirror and that he was wearing a black cloak that completely obscured his face with shadows despite the overhead lights. He felt a sense of déjà vu as he 'remembered' enchanting the cloak to cover his face with shadows even though he'd never seen the cloak before.

He glanced at his gloves that looked like someone had painted a set of rubber and cloth gloves black and then covered them with shadows. 'Looks like I'm supposed to be an edge lord or maybe an off brand dark sorcerer look since the costume didn't come with robes.'

He reached out and tapped the counter, not sure how to feel about the table being solid since it meant that he wasn't dreaming and someone had managed to teleport him out of his room. 'Or they drugged me and I just woke up, except I'm standing and I don't feel disoriented,' Mist argued. 'Of course, that doesn't explain why I can remember enchanting the cloak.'

Mist turned his attention to the waste bin and cast the object Teleportation spell that he could remember, causing the paper towel that someone had left on the ground to teleport over the bin. 'Okay, someone or something teleported me into a public bathroom and gave me magic or managed to sit me in a VR machine more advanced than anything I've ever heard of or maybe I've just lost my mind, I'm not sure which one is more likely.'

Mist spent a couple of seconds looking around the restroom and running through math problems in his head before he was forced to admit that he wasn't dreaming and that he'd gotten kidnapped. 'Don't think of it as being kidnapped, think of it as being Isekai-ed,' he mused as he opened the door. He glanced at the man in his mid twenties that was dressed like a hospital resident standing near the door, obviously waiting for something.

"Ready to test your power on a couple of criminals so we can get it certified?" the man asked with a smile.

"Absolutely," Mist replied, hoping he wasn't making a mistake. He followed the man down the hallway of what looked like a hospital. 'At least I'm not seeing armed guards everywhere or military police.'

Mist twitched and nearly said something he shouldn't when they walked into a room and he saw a frizzy haired girl with freckles that was wearing white robes with a red cross symbol on it and a red scarf. 'Huh. Panacea? Earth Bet? Ah, shit.'

The doctor that was standing next to Panacea looked up from his clipboard. "The paperwork describes your power as healing and reported that none of the lab rats got sick. Just use your power on the volunteer and Panacea will make sure your power doesn't cause any horrible side effects then we can get you certified as a healer."

'Yep, Worm,' Mist thought when the doctor confirmed her name.

"I thought you said his power had been tested before," the volunteer complained.

"It has, on lab rats and some locals before he was brought in, we're just getting all of our ducks in a row," the doctor assured him. "Panacea should be able to fix any side effects if they occur."

"That's why I'm here," Panacea offered, hoping that having another healer around would take some of the pressure off her.

Mist pulled his attention away from the teenage healer and looked at the man on the bed in leather restraints that appeared to have been on the losing side of a knife fight. 'Worst case, you screw something up and Panacea fixes it.' He let his 'memories' guide him, easily casting the healing spell he remembered. He watched as the man's cuts, abrasions and broken arm healed before their eyes over the next five seconds. "That worked better than I was expecting."

Panacea reached out, touched the man's arm and quickly checked his health, surprised to find no trace of his injuries or the drugs that had been in his system. "He's in perfect health, his power even cleaned out the plaque in his heart from eating too much junk food. If I didn't know better, I'd say this man had never used any drugs in his life."

"Can you put that in my file for the cops?" the volunteer asked hopefully. "They're trying to charge me with using a bunch of drugs."

Panacea shook her head. "Doesn't change the fact that you were high as a kite when you jumped off Squealer's rig."

The officer that was standing by the window piped up, "You'd have to be high to jump off a moving vehicle like that."

"I jumped because Skidmark grabbed the wheel and said he was going to drive, I might have been fucked up but I wasn't that fucked up," the volunteer argued.

"Take it up with your attorney," the officer suggested, agreeing with his point of view.

"How much of his tolerance for drugs did he lose?" the doctor asked Panacea, wanting to make sure the test subject didn't accidentally overdose in the future if he returned to doing drugs.

Panacea spent a couple of seconds making sure. "None, apparently Warlock's power doesn't consider a resistance to recreational drugs an injury."

"Probably for the best," the doctor admitted, knowing the merchant was likely to go right back to using once he got out. "Is there any reason we shouldn't fill out the paperwork to get him set up as a healer?"

"Not that I can see," Panacea admitted. "I'm not seeing any negative side effects and even the symptoms of his physical addiction to the various drugs he was using are gone."

"You're saying he's no longer an addict?" the officer asked.

"It didn't change his memories so he should probably get some type of drug counseling but physically, he's not addicted to anything anymore," Panacea explained.

"Does that mean I can get a deal?" the volunteer asked hopefully.

"Take it up with your attorney," the officer suggested.

"We can finish the rest of it at the desk," the doctor suggested.

"Are you planning on sticking around for the rest of the holidays?" Panacea asked hopefully as they left the patient's room.

"That depends, am I allowed to take donations for healing people without the PRT jumping down my neck?" Mist asked the doctor as he pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket and checked how much cash he had. 'Holidays, does that mean Taylor hasn't triggered yet?'

"You're allowed to take donations, actually paying you is a lot more complicated for various reasons," the doctor admitted as they headed for the help desk, not particularly happy with the various laws that made it hard for capes to make an honest living.

"Do you have a box and a marker I can borrow?" Mist asked the doctor as he put his wallet back in his pocket. "I figure a box that says donations are appreciated but not required would be pretty reasonable. Considering I have less than fifty dollars to my name, I wouldn't mind making enough money to afford dinner and a hotel room."

"I can find something," the doctor assured him as they approached the desk. "Is there a reason you don't want to join the PRT?"

"I'm not a brute or a cop and I'm sure as hell not Spiderman, I don't have an obligation to use my powers for the benefit of the world. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind helping people a couple of days a week but if an extremely rich asshole offers me half a million to skip in line and heal him, I'd probably do it unless he made his money killing people or dumping toxic waste in places he shouldn't."

"What happens if someone sends people to kidnap you?" Panacea asked.

Mist turned to look at Panacea. "I'd probably point out that paying me is a hell of a lot easier and less likely to result in a villain capping them because they messed with a healer that can put everyone back together after an endbringer fight."

"The Protectorate would probably put exceptions in your contract," the doctor pointed out.

"The problem comes when the Protectorate wants me to heal a piece of shit cape masquerading as a hero or stand around for hours for a PR stunt, it's important but I'm not all that interested in that side of being a hero. Besides, if I was working for the PRT and I saw a grandmother kicking the shit out of an E88 gang member, I'd be legally obligated to stop her and that's basically a deal breaker."

"I can understand that," the doctor admitted. "Do you have any restrictions on what you can heal?"

"If someone gets turned into hamburger, I'm not going to be able to fix it but for the most part, if they've got a pulse, I can probably fix them or at least, that's my best guess, I have a well of power that regenerates which means I'm not going to be able to fix everyone in the hospital but I can probably heal another nineteen or twenty people tonight if Panacea is willing to make sure my power doesn't have any side effects?"

"Let me send my sister a text while the doctor finishes the paperwork and grabs a donation box," Panacea suggested, curious how his power worked on other injuries.

"Works for me," Mist agreed, wishing his powers had come with a system or a stat screen or even a notecard with more of an explanation of what was going on since his powers were generic enough that they could have come from anywhere. 'Okay, you're a healer, you can repair things with a wave of your hand and you can teleport. That's not a bad collection of powers and you can probably make money repairing things.'

'On the other hand, they dropped me in Earth Bet, that's worse than Gotham,' Mist mused as he waited for the doctor to finish filling out the paperwork so that he could heal people without the PRT pitching a bitchfest.

0o0o0

"You should probably make a donation box too," Vicky suggested as she watched Mist pull a bunch of tens, twenties and a hundred dollar bill out of the empty tissue box with "Donations accepted but not required" written on the side of it in black marker.

"I'd have to keep track and pay taxes and Carol would want it put into a trust," Amy pointed out. "Which is something you're going to have to worry about."

"This is why I'm not a hero or a public cape," Mist replied as he started sorting the cash. "I understand that the government is supposed to use the tax money they receive to provide public services, but various laws keep me from actually charging a reasonable rate. Laws that are frankly criminal and against the constitution."

Vicky glanced at the staff exit that the hospital let them use so they could avoid Amy getting mobbed. "Good luck getting the laws repealed, there's too much money coming in from corporations that don't want the laws changed."

"I'm a healer, I can literally wave my hand and heal people and Amy's even better. I could basically swing by a talk show and 'imply' to a bunch of judges and lawyers that if the laws were declared unconstitutional, they'd get free healing for life as long as they could get to the same city I was in."

Vicky shook her head. "Some people would see that as bribery."

Mist put the almost five hundred in cash in his wallet and stuffed his wallet back in his pocket. "Good luck finding a public attorney that would prosecute me, it would be political suicide and possibly actual suicide if a bunch of villains realized that they were trying to lock up a healer. I'd make sure my lawyer would explain that to the jury as well. Maybe I win, maybe I vanish before they ever get me near a jail."

"Or you could just pay the taxes," Amy argued.

"Why should I? By any fair assessment, I've already saved the government millions in health care costs when I healed the group of senior citizens. Legally, they want their pound of flesh, but I bet I could make a deal with Canada that would allow me to avoid paying taxes in exchange for healing a couple of important people a year."

Vicky shook her head. "You're having too much fun winding her up."

"Probably," Mist admitted with a grin, causing Amy to glare at him when she realized that he was messing with her.

"I've had a long day," Amy complained.

"Do you want me to heal you? It should take care of fatigue," Mist offered.

"Fuck it," Amy replied, knowing that his power worked at range and that there wasn't really anything preventing him from using it on her since he'd used it on a child that was throwing a fit and freaking out because of a broken arm earlier. 'I didn't notice any master effects and he would have at least calmed down the annoying brat if he could.'

Mist cast his healing spell on Amy, wanting to get rid of her stress and her various mental issues before she snapped. "Better?"

Amy sighed in relief as the tension in her back and shoulders vanished along with the fatigue she'd been dealing with from not sleeping enough. "Damn," she said, finding she was actually breathing a bit easier as well.

"Damn?" Vicky asked.

"All of the tension is gone," Amy admitted, feeling better than she'd felt in a long time.

"That good?" Vicky asked with a smirk as she wiggled her eyebrows.

"Don't," Amy scolded her sister. "Can you come home with us?" she blurted out, thinking about her father.

Vicky stared at her sister, wide eyed. "Seriously?"

"What? No, he's probably a lot older than me," Amy argued when she realized Vicky was being weird. "I wanted to see if he could heal Dad's depression, since his power does have a positive effect on brain chemistry."

"Right, that makes more sense," Vicky admitted, glad that Amy hadn't decided to jump someone she’d just met.

"Sure," Mist agreed, not seeing a reason to refuse since it would put New Wave in a better spot. "If you're willing to give me a lift, I'm willing to heal your father."

"Just like that?" Vicky asked.

"I don't mind healing heroes and I can probably talk you out of dinner," Mist replied with a grin.

"Absolutely," Vicky agreed as she headed for the door. "Let's go."

"How are you going to carry us both?" Amy asked.

"One princess, one piggyback, who wants which?" Vicky replied smugly.

"Can I say hi ho Silver away?" Mist asked, fairly sure they'd look silly no matter what.

Vicky laughed. "No."

"Huh," Amy muttered when she glanced between Vicky and Mist. "We should probably hurry before Uber and Leet see us, we look like an RPG group."

"We'd need some type of rogue," Vicky mused as they exited the building.

"Or a tinker," Mist suggested as he followed the girls out of the hospital.

0o0o0

"Please put all trays in their upright position as we come in for a landing," Vicky teased as she floated down to the driveway in front of her house, hovering two feet off the ground so that Mist could climb down.

Mist let go of Vicky's waist, unwrapped his legs from Vicky's and stood up. "I'm good," he told her as he took a step back, fairly sure flying while kneeling wasn't the most comfortable even if you were a brute.

"I'm a bit surprised that you didn't scream," Vicky replied as she straightened her legs and set Amy down.

"I didn't want to distract the pilot," Mist replied, glad that Vicky had kept things to a reasonable speed for the most part. "Though I do have a question, you're a flying cape, is there a reason you went with a skirt?"

Vicky snickered as she floated toward the front door. "I like the attention and I'm wearing shorts under my costume so it's not like I'm giving anyone a show."

"Except that time you forgot," Amy teased as they headed toward the house.

"I didn't forget, they were dirty and it was just supposed to be a quick meet and greet where I didn't have to fly around. I wasn't expecting someone to steal a purse while three capes were signing autographs," Vicky complained, unwilling to admit that she'd forgotten that she'd skipped wearing her shorts in the moment and chased after the idiot, giving people a good look at her underwear.

"Speaking of costumes, where did you get your cloak?" Amy asked.

"Would you believe me if I said I bought it from a shady magician?" Mist asked as Vicky opened the door.

"We're home and we have a guest," Vicky called out as she walked into the house, not wanting to startle her father.

"That depends, do you have their card?" Amy asked as they walked inside and she shut the door.

"What's going on?" Mark asked, surprised that they'd brought a cape home without telling him.

"This is Warlock, he's a healer and his power works on brains," Amy explained.

"Hit me," Mark replied without hesitation, tired of dealing with his depression and knowing that they wouldn't have brought him if they hadn't checked him out.

Mist cast his healing spell on the man sitting in the recliner, curing his depression and fixing the brain damage he'd acquired from the concussion he'd suffered in his teens. "That should take care of your depression and any physical damage."

Mark smiled as he went from feeling like shit to feeling like he'd just won the lottery. "It's like the fog is gone."

"You're welcome," Mist replied.

"Can he stay for dinner?" Vicky asked, figuring it was the least she could do since he'd fixed her father's head.

"Absolutely, I'll toss on an extra steak," Mark replied cheerfully as he stood up and headed for the kitchen, feeling like he had all of the energy in the world now that he wasn't being pulled into the abyss.

"Thank you," Amy told Mist, happy to have her father back as he'd been sliding the last couple of years.

"You helped me get my healer's card, it's the least I can do," Mist replied as he glanced around the nice looking living room. 'Other than the large flat screen television and the leather recliner, everything looks sturdy and serviceable rather than expensive. Is that because of Vicky or because they have decent taste?'

"So, where did you actually get the cloak?" Vicky asked, curious if there was a tinker running around that could improve her costume.

Mist turned to look at Vicky, wondering if she was using her aura since she seemed especially cute with her slight pout and hopeful puppy dog eyes. "Officially? I got it from a magician."

"And unofficially?" Amy asked, fairly sure he didn't get it from a magician.

'Screw it, I'm going to need backup when the gangs realize that I don't have any support,' Mist admitted. "That depends, can you keep a secret?"

"Of course," Vicky replied.

"So can I," Mist replied with a grin, practically radiating smugness.

Vicky rolled her eyes. "Okay, don't tell us."

Mist chuckled. "Sorry, I have a warped sense of humor. I bought the cloak from a ren faire and enchanted it so that it would conceal my face," he lied, fairly sure they'd think he was completely crazy if he admitted that some eldritch being had given it to him.

"So you're not just a healer?" Amy asked.

"No, I can also teleport, repair things and create magical items," Mist replied with a grin.

"Like Dauntless or like a tinker?" Vicky asked, skipping over the fact that he seemed to think his powers were magic.

"I don't know how Dauntless' power actually works," Mist admitted. "I basically carve runes into objects then push magic into the runes to give the items permanent effects, once they're enchanted anyone can use them."

"What type of 'magical' effects can you pull off?" Vicky asked excitedly, wondering if she could talk him into upgrading her costume.

"Lots," Mist replied with a shrug, not actually sure where his limits were since his enchanting skill was sort of like a programming language rather than a list of items that he could create.

"That's not as helpful as you think," Vicky complained.

"It's sort of like a strange alien programming language, I know the basics and I can cobble things together but I'm always going to be learning new tricks or coming up with ways to improve things. If you want actual examples, pick something from a folk tale that doesn't include a genie or excessive elemental manipulation and I can probably figure out how to duplicate it."

"No genie lamps, eh?" Amy asked with amusement.

Mist laughed. "The lamp is actually the easy part, that's just warping space. The hard part is creating the actual genie, and by hard I mean impossible."

"Makes sense," Amy agreed. "That whole 'nearly phenomenal cosmic power' thing is probably asking a bit much."

"Exactly," Mist agreed. 'You could probably make a knock off using the right spells but I wouldn't know where to start and you'd probably need a ton of magic.'

"What about a scrying mirror or a magical mirror that can tell me who is the fairest in the land?" Vicky asked excitedly.

"I'm not actually sure how to make intelligent mirrors and that whole fairest in the land bit would be subjective at best," Mist admitted.

"Does that mean you can make a scrying mirror?" Vicky asked excitedly.

"I'd need a mirror…" Mist trailed off as he realized that he probably shouldn't have admitted to being about to make a scrying mirror.

"Would a compact work?" Vicky asked.

"Sure…" Mist trailed off as Vicky flew toward the stairs. "Why do I feel like I just opened Pandora's box?"

"Because you just gave a teenage hero the ability to scry on a bunch of criminals," Amy replied as she pulled her compact out of her pocket. "How long would it take to enchant it and what do you need?"

"Do you have an engraving tool or a screw and some electrical or duct tape?" Mist asked, fairly sure he could make a makeshift engraving tool that would work well enough to make a basic scrying device.

"We should have something in the garage," Amy said as she handed him the mirror and headed for the garage.

"Cool," Mist replied. 'I should probably enchant something to protect me against scrying and precogs, I don't need Scion showing up and killing me or turning me into a zombie. I should probably make something to help against masters. I'll add it to the list.'