Combinatorial Explosion (Worm/Original)

"We'll have a storm now. And an earthquake, if you like," the mysterious stranger said in an authoritative tone.

"You must stand aside, out of danger."

Suddenly, the robed figure was replaced by a burning shape that stood in a loose, uneasy posture, blue flames rising up from its feet and radiating from its head.

The figure raised a hand, and their eyes opened, twin pits of darkness.

There was a flash of light, as if everything in the world had caught fire in an instant, and then...

---

Danny gasped, jerking awake. The television was all static, and the videotape had long since ended. He could hear bird song faintly from outside as the sun started to rise.

"That's the last time I watch that movie," he muttered to himself. Last night, him and Taylor had decided to watch movies, just the two of them. The Adventures of Mark Twain had been fun, and brought back memories of a very young Taylor begging Annette for the film, having already read most of Mark Twain's more popular work.

Of course, back then, Taylor was the one who had gotten bad dreams from it.

Danny stood up from the couch he had fallen asleep on, letting out a huff of air as he felt the aches and pains that seemed so far away, even just a few years ago.

Knowing how strong his little owl had become after gaining her powers, he was a bit surprised to still have aches like those. Well, not really surprised.

As he began to stretch, knowing that that usually banished the worst consequences of a poor sleeping spot, his sleepy mind ran through a few thoughts, before settling on one in particular.

'How did the saying go? Before enlightenment, pour water, after enlightenment, pour water?' he thought, but that didn't seem right.

'No, that wasn't it,' he concluded, raising his hands high up in the air and stretching as much as he could, the pleasant ache of exerted tendons pushing away the unpleasant ache of stiff joints.

Taking a deep breath, he let out another puff of air. He felt pretty good now. Work wouldn't be nearly as much trouble if he wasn't hurting. Sitting around doing paperwork might not have seemed like the kind of work to aggravate pains, but the people who thought that hadn't had to do it at the union building.

A cramped office and a cramped chair were what awaited him there, as he checked on Taylor, who was usually sleeping, eating, or doing something incomprehensible in the basement.

Today, it seemed to be option 'A', and he found her asleep in her bed. It was a comforting sight, especially after he had found out about her escapade as Sage last week.

He saw the news, as well. Most of the footage was choppy amateur work from people poking their phones out of their apartments nearby to catch a shot of the Rogue systematically plowing towards the guys with guns, weaving together shimmering barriers and grown plants to thwart the bullets that she didn't simply dodge outright.

He wondered how Taylor had made her armor undulate like it did, parts of it seeming to grow thicker moments before something would hit it. He still didn't know much about magic. Aside from the ever-present sensation of it in his core, and the curious feeling of it in the air, he hadn't done much with it, not seeing the need.

Though, it did seem to flare a bit when he was done stretching. Maybe there was something to that 'Yoga' junk. He certainly felt better than he usually did after stretching.

He started up his truck, making his way to Donut Oleg's, a place that got started up by a burly Russian by the same name, but was now owned by a Chinese family who bought it years back, keeping the name in an effort to keep some of the customers that the original benefitted from.

'Of course,' he thought, parking outside after a short drive there.

'They sure didn't seem to need the help,' he finished, walking inside the crowded building, breakfast in full swing for the people here.

"I'll have a dozen powdered and some coffee, please," Danny said once it was his turn, paying and receiving his order.

"Have a goodun'," the teen at the register said, already losing interest in the customer now that they had what they came for.

The coffee wasn't anything special, but the donuts were some of the best he could get his hands on. Either way, his order was practical. It was early, he hadn't quite slept right, and some sugar and caffeine would give him some short-term energy until he was awake properly.

As he parked outside of the union building, he decided he'd eat a few of the donuts before getting out of the car. A bit greedy, but Daniel Hebert was a man who knew how to make the most of his assets, and he knew they would disappear quickly once he actually started working, a consequence of him being a bit too nice to his coworkers when it came to pilfered donuts.

As he wiped his hands clean of the powdery sugar and took another drink of coffee, he felt properly revitalized, something his budding mana seemed to agree with, considering the second little flareup he had felt.

He glared at his coffee suspiciously. "Just what are they putting in this stuff nowadays?" he murmured, getting out of the car and closing the door with a click as he strode confidently into the building. It was a good thing he picked up coffee while he could. Quality coffee wasn't anywhere to be found in this particular building, so he'd be stuck with the usual swill once his current cup ran dry.

Carol was behind the front desk as usual, typing away at something, either important files or her blog, depending on how quiet today was.

"Morning," Danny said, walking past her, noticing a necklace on her desk. He had gained a bit of an eye for odd things, ever since he was the one helping get most of Taylor's 'cape' materials, and the rainbow colored gem set in the middle of the otherwise cheap-looking necklace.

"What's that?" he asked politely, and she looked away from the computer to see what he meant.

"Oh! It's Fordite. My husband works at the local automotive place, so they have quite a bit of it. It is quite nice, isn't it?" she asks, offering a smile.

He nods. "Yeah. Might have to get one for Taylor. She likes that sort of thing," he says, already preparing to leave for his office.

"Oh? Well, I'd be happy to tell my husband, heaven knows he still owes you for all your hard work," she responded, getting a nod from him.

Most everyone he knew 'owed him' for his work, considering most of the people he knew well were also members of the union. He never let it go to his head, but he also knew that you couldn't ignore that kind of sway if you wanted to help get people as many good jobs as you could manage. It helped out more than once, just having the ability to call up someone who was well-off thanks to him to see if they had an opening for the next poor guy to walk into his office.

'I appreciate that Carol. I'll be in my office if anyone needs me,' he says, offering a short wave.

He had been wanting to look over some papers lately that had been irking him. Ones that had been irking him since he got his new abilities.

---

Danny let the papers flop back down onto his table with a huff. It didn't make sense.

Or rather, it made sense to him, but something was obviously wrong.

A lot of the work he did involved hunches. He had to not only find jobs for hard-working men and women, but also find hard-working men and women for jobs. It was a fine balance, and he was usually one of the first people called if a new hire or a new job didn't turn out the way he figured it would.

He had learned a while ago that, if he was being honest, his hunches didn't mean spit. When it came down to pure guesswork, people were funny about defying what you thought about them after a short interview, something he usually made up for with a handy list of phone numbers and people he knew who could help when he needed to shuffle things around.

That wasn't the case here.

Or rather, it wasn't the same case.

He looked through the papers again, trying to decide if he was seeing connections where there wasn't any.

He assumed that older folks typically went for older jobs. A fourty-something man seemed like a good fit for work that had some history to it, where a fresh-out-of-school eighteen-year-old wasn't quite.

He was proven wrong enough times to make him doubt that this was strictly true, but lately, he had been doing what he usually did, trying to make connections and figure out how to do the best job he could as head of hiring.

And it had started working just a little bit more.

He was pretty sure that he wasn't getting better hunches. It seemed obvious that a guy who used to do a lot of skateboarding would be decent enough at changing wheels on cars. It was simple work that used the same kind of tools, and it was one of the only jobs he could offer the kid.

It seemed pretty clear that John Hammond, a vet down on his luck who just needed money for rent, would be better suited for hauling work, he knew well enough from his own father's half-remembered talking about the military that it involved a lot of moving things from point-a to point-b.

His usual cases where he had as much information as he could get, and it came down to simple guesswork on how to make the call.

But unlike before, this practice wasn't nearly as spotty as before. He got far fewer calls about people flaking out, fewer complaints from employee or employer, whenever he was forced to follow one of his theories that seemed to hold water.

After thoroughly looking through last week's logs, he was pretty sure of one thing. Magic was involved, even if it wasn't the direct cause. But, of course, to his knowledge, there was only really one person who could tell him if he was getting better ideas, or if something was making his terrible ideas work better.

Taylor, who had expressed a very keen interest in training him this week, once she had made time for it.

'Well, with any luck, I won't be totally empty-headed by the time that happens,' he thought to himself, yawning a bit as he stretched, waiting for the inevitable flow of bonus mana to give him a bit more pep for the hours of calls he'd be making today.

[] Interlude: Lisa
[] Interlude: Amy
[] Interlude: Armsmaster
[] Conclude Interludes