"Honey?" Susan Veder asked in confusion.
Greg blinked and yawned, stretching his arms. "What?" he asked in confusion as he realized he was standing in front of an open oven and quickly pulled out a pan with a cheese souffle in it and set it on the stove top.
"Are you cooking?" she asked in disbelief.
"Apparently," he replied as he closed the stove. "It's a cream cheese souffle. It's light enough to be a good breakfast dish," he said absently, leaning into his new knowledge of cooking. "I saw a chief make it in an instructional video and decided to try my hand," he lied, wondering why he'd been cooking in his sleep.
"Something smells good," Vincent," said as he entered the kitchen. "Honey, you cooked?" he asked in disbelief.
Susan rolled her eyes. "It's not smoking or currently on fire, so no. Apparently our little boy has some hidden skills."
"It's not that impressive," Greg said, as a couple of pieces of toast popped up and he snagged and buttered them not even looking as he prepared several plates, portioning out the food with a grace and skill that was uncanny.
"Honey… are you a parahuman?" Susan asked, worry clear in her eyes.
Greg raised an eyebrow. "Is there a parahuman power dealing with being a good cook?" he asked doubtfully. "Come to think of it, are there any parahuman abilities that don't lead to running around in costume and attacking other people in costumes? Eat my lunch, it's nutritious and delicious!" he declared, waving a spoon melodramatically.
Vincent laughed. "You have a point there son. Still… this is impressive."
"I'm used to trying to do things while being so distracted I almost walk into traffic," Greg said. "I almost feel like I'm cheating, this was so easy."
Susan smiled and relaxed as they all set down to eat. "If you became a parahuman you'd tell us, right?" she asked, just to be sure.
"No way, it'd be difficult to be a hero or villain with you two watching over my shoulder," Greg argued. "I'd drag girls down to my villainous lair and just as I got to the good part you'd call me to make sure I'd picked up the dry cleaning or something. I'm a teenager, I fully intend to be sneaking around and dragging girls to my villainous lair without your knowledge while you think I've gone to the park or something."
Vincent laughed and his wife smacked him in the shoulder.
"It's not funny," she told him.
"I beg to differ," he said, "I find it hilarious. So what are you planning to do today, son?"
"Go visit Taylor and have her help me find a villainous lair to drag her off to," he replied with a shrug before taking a bite of his souffle, ignoring his father's laughter and his mother's groan. "Wow, this is good," he said, surprised.
"Really?" Susan took a bite of her food and her eyes widened. "Sweetie, I think you have a real talent here."
"Of course I do, for am I not… The Iron Chef!" Greg proclaimed proudly, puffing out his chest in a way that would have looked ridiculous the day before, but actually looked quite different now that he was built like a Norwegian lumberjack.
"Are you sure…" Susan began before trailing off, not sure she wanted the answer.
"If I am, then I have a power dealing with cooking," he told his mom with a smile, "so I wouldn't worry about it."
"This feels like the kinda double talk used to get out of admitting something while admitting something," Vincent said thoughtfully.
Greg shrugged. "I'm not planning on running around in a costume fighting crime today, though I won't completely rule that out. What I plan to do is visit Taylor and possibly do some things her father would disapprove of, but would put a smile on her face. I'm pretty sure costumes won't be involved in that either, but she does love drama. So… maybe?"
"Protection?" Vincent asked.
"The Iron Chef is bulletproof!"
"Is he child support proof?" Vincent asked with a grin.
"Can I get a small advance on my allowance for… something?" he asked hopefully.
"Greg!" Susan exclaimed.
He just stared at his mother for a second, his newfound ability to understand girls throwing up its hands in this situation. "Lying about being a cape and risking my life is concerning, but openly asking for money to be responsible in sexual matters is horrifying?" he asked, confused.
Susan took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Dear, being responsible is a good thing, but I think you are a bit young to be getting involved in… sexual situations."
"Listen to your mother, after all we did obey her father who said she couldn't have sex until… When was it, dear?" Vincent pretended to think about it while his wife buried her face in her hands. "Oh yes, I remember now... when he was dead and buried or a century had gone by."
"I'll have to remember to put flowers on Pop-Pop's grave," Greg said with a heavy sigh. "Has he picked out a spot yet? Oh, and when did you have this talk with him? Are we talking Freshman or Sophomore year?"
"Senior!" Susan exclaimed, obviously lying.
"Sophomore," Vincent countered with a grin.
"Of college!"
"Which was the nickname for our High School, apparently," Vincent said dryly.
"And how long after that conversation did you have sex?" Greg asked curiously.
"Here's twenty dollars, make sure to get ones with spermicide and ribbed if they have them," Susan ordered her son, before turning to her husband. "Answer that question and it might be another fifty years before you have sex again."
"Yes Dear," he said with a grin. "Son… I'm sure I'm supposed to give you a talk about sex, but I'm equally sure your knowledge probably exceeds mine, at least in theoretical matters since you have a computer. Still, if you have any questions… google them before you ask me."
"Vincent!"
He simply shrugged. "It's embarrassing enough to ask those types of questions of your parents, why make it worse by not looking for easy answers first? Son, if you aren't sure of something feel free to ask me and I'll google them to make sure we have them right."
"I'm surrounded by comedians," she complained to the ceiling.
0o0o0
Riley finished signing the contract and felt her bones shiver for a moment before her tinkertech exploded out of her body, completely destroying her clothes and leaving her feeling vulnerable in a world that was suddenly smaller. "What the fuck?!" she blurted out in shock, forgetting her rules about swearing.
"Physical upgrade, it's part of the magical contract," Myst replied as she glanced at the blood splattered twelve year old with gold ringlets in the shredded remains of her clothing, relieved that her skin had already healed and she wasn't going to have to quickly heal her before she died or anything.
"Magic…" Riley trailed off as Burnscar lost her tinkertech implants in a way that really should have killed her, despite the fact that her skin seemed to be untouched and in fact better than it had been just a minute ago. "Explain!" she demanded, not daring to hope.
"Give me a second," Myst told her as she reached out and tapped Riley on the head, giving her several powers including Purity of Mind which should help fix some of her mental problems and make her easier to deal with. He turned and tapped Mimi, giving her Purity of Mind as well so her power wouldn't screw with her. He gestured and cast a cleaning spell on the girls, removing the blood. "You should probably grab some of Mimi's clothes and anything else valuable, we've probably got less than five minutes before the PRT show up, so let's get a move on."
"Okay," Burnscar said as she hustled back towards the RV, not wanting to get on the strange cape's bad side as she'd seen what happened to the rest of the Nine and for once she didn't feel an ever present urge to see the world lit on fire.
Riley looked down at her suddenly clean body then headed to the RV to grab her stuff and get some clothes that might fit. "You seem a lot more agreeable than I expected," she told her friend.
"My scars are gone and I don't feel the need to burn anything," she explained. "I don't even feel my usual paranoia about something coming out of the dark under furniture to… I feel fine, okay?"
"Alright," Riley said softly, "let's get dressed."
'Let's hope this doesn't blow up in my face,' Myst mused as she watched the girls rush into the RV, figuring the PRT or military were already on their way.
0o0o0
The Simurgh was rarely angry but she felt the situation warranted it, she'd been watching no less than 360,781 of her plans coming to fruition and suddenly she had Crawler clawing at her face and he wasn't even supposed to be in this hemisphere much less at this altitude!
Crawler silently laughed as he worked on clawing the endbringer's face off, figuring the worst she could do would be to kill him and with his adaptation that wasn't likely. This was the fight he'd been dreaming of!
Her fists beat futile against his armored hide, hide that was slowly becoming tougher and harder to damage.
One of the satellites passing by shifted in its orbit.
0o0o0
"Are you sure you're not insane?" Riley asked Myst as she stared at the list of powers she'd apparently handed her, wondering why she was giving her of all people more power.
"I have a certificate of sanity on my wall," Myst assured her as she picked up another French fry.
"Signed by who?" Riley asked suspiciously.
"Doctor Harleen Quinzel," Myst replied with a smile after eating the fry.
Riley raised her eyebrows, fairly sure she was making a joke, but not positive as she didn't recognize the name. "What part of giving powers to an ex-villain sounds like a good idea?"
"Purity of Mind provides protection against master effects, including your shard's tendency to push you towards conflict. That basically means that you don't have to worry about masters or even your own powers mentally screwing you over and it fixes a truck load of mental issues as well."
"I've got subscriptions," Riley admitted. "Uncle Jack ordered them for me."
"I suggest tossing your least favorite ones, they take up space," Myst told her.
"Funny," Mimi muttered as she stood up. "Don't quit your day job. I need a refill."
"Fair," Myst admitted as Mimi left. "The basic physical upgrade gets rid of your tinkertech because it always comes with an expiration date. Find the Whey gives you resistance to various drugs and makes you a lot harder to hurt. Telekinesis lets you move things with your mind and the sorcery power should let you learn actual magic."
"The fact that you're calling it sorcery brings to question your sanity," Riley replied.
"What else do you call it, reality bending?" Myst asked. "Magic is just the name of a power, I could call it Earl and it would work the same."
"Either way, I'm a villain…" Riley trailed off, not sure why she was trusting her with the plastic knives let alone the power to twist reality.
Myst shook her head. "You're Riley. If you want to help make the world a better place, help make the world a better place, if you want to fill a tropical island with magical monsters, I'll buy you an island."
"Just like that?" Riley asked in disbelief.
"Yep," Myst agreed. "I think you need some time to learn how to relax and be Riley before you worry about being a cape, good or bad, but it's your life."
"What do you get out of this?" Riley asked, honestly lost on why someone would do this for her.
"Eventually?" Myst took a sip of her chocolate shake as she thought about how to phrase things. "A genius magic user that can spread magic to the world and change it for the better. I think you can be that person."
Riley glanced around the mostly deserted pier then focused on the woman that had saved her. "What makes you think I'll be a hero?"
"Hope," Myst replied with a shrug. "You've spent years with Jack, try something different, be happy and learn magic. Besides, magic girls are awesome. I came all this way to help you and Mimi, why not give it a shot?"
Riley considered her options, thinking about what her mother had said and how much she'd wished for a chance to escape Jack before he'd gotten his fingers into her brain. "I'm willing to try."
"Everything settled?" Mimi asked as she returned with her soda.
"Close enough, she wants me to be a magic girl," Riley told her friend.
"I want to make you a magic user not a magic girl, those are two very different things. Magic girls are usually from a magical society which has advanced to the point where magic and science meet and use something referred to as Clarketech. Each magic girl has the power of a capital ship from a space faring society if not the power of an out and out Death Star. Magic girls are serious business! I want to make you a magic user, which is the equivalent of a modern day scientist, just using magical means rather than technological ones. There are positives and negatives of using magic vs science that can be quite useful."
"Are you nuts?" Mimi asked Myst.
"That's what I asked," Riley said with a grin.
"Joking aside, most magic users aren't perfectly sane," Myst admitted, "it comes with the territory of being able to bend reality to your whims."
Riley nodded and looked thoughtful. "How do we get started?"
Myst gestured and conjured a scroll with the formula for prestidigitation on it and handed it to Riley. "What else? Homework."
Riley looked at the scroll, finding the language easy to decipher and the concepts behind the words as fascinating as the spell itself.
Mimi shook her head. "This feels like mixing black powder and matches."
"You have to start somewhere," Myst replied, then took another sip of her milkshake, looking forward to seeing how much the girls could learn and knowing that if he could spread magic far enough the entities would avoid this section of the cosmos, making these worlds safer for all involved.
0o0o0
"Hey Sport," Vincent said, catching his son's attention when his wife had gone to check her makeup and hair.
"Sport?" Greg asked with a raised eyebrow, not recalling his father ever having called him that before.
"You weren't very athletic earlier and I thought it'd be kinda insulting to call you it before," Vincent explained, "but that's not important. Listen, I'm your father and I'd like to think I know you pretty well, so you can be sure I caught on to what you were and weren't saying this morning. Now I'm not going to pry, but if you need anything let me know and try and be safe regardless of what costume you eventually end up wearing, just remember Nazi's suck, you aren't Asian, anything more than pot is a ticket to the shit show, and the PRT is almost as bad."
"I'd hug you, but my hands are in soapy water," Greg told him, finding himself almost misty eyed at how much his father cared for him and was willing to support him and let him make his own decisions.
"Just try and keep it from your mom, you know how she worries. If you have to, just pretend you're a bit of a playboy and always rushing off to meet a number of different girls," Vincent said, patting his son on the shoulder and giving it a squeeze before slipping a couple of twenties in the pocket of his hoodie. "Well, I'm going to warm the car up."
Greg smiled happily, finished up the dishes, and had dried his hands when his mother returned.
"Son, I'm your mother and there isn't much you can hide from me… no matter how much we both wish you could at times… really you don't hide your porn near well enough. Anyway, back on track, I know… more than you are willing to admit to and while I would prefer if you lived a quiet life that isn't actually possible for those with powers. I want you to be safe, so remember Nazis suck, you aren't going to pass for Asian in any kind of light, and the Merchants sell poor quality crap and claim it's primo stuff. I won't even go into the problems with the PRT."
Greg grinned widely, amused at how alike his parents were.
"What I'm trying to say is… I love you and try and be safe whatever you choose." She gave him a hug and slipped a couple of hundreds in his pocket. "Don't forget body armor and don't let your dad know; you know how he worries. If you have to sneak out a bunch and he catches you, just claim you are sneaking off to meet with a girl, he'll fall for it in a second and remember if you make me a grandmother in the next five years I will kill you." She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "See you tonight, dear."
"Bye," he said, "love you too."
He had the best parents!
Beta by: Abyssal Angel & Mist of Shadows