No Really it’s not What it Looks Like (DC Amalgamation SI)

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People will do a lot for things like power or a worthy cause, even take really sketchy deals that get them stranded in Gotham City for a year. Sure, our bumbling protagonist is stranded alone in a world without a dime to his name, some blatantly edited metaknowledge, and a set of superpowers which currently lack much in the way of 'super', but hey! At least he's not stuck in Marvel!
Chapter 1: Magic Hobo Life is a lot Better Than Nonmagic Hobo Life. Part 1

Chapter 1: Magic Hobo Life is a lot Better Than Nonmagic Hobo Life



Part 1


Normally, I liked rain. Part of it was the normal sound thing, the sound of countless drops hitting leaves, grass, and buildings with the odd distant crack of lighting. The tranquility of it as it flushed out the other sounds of the world. That part was a common enough opinion.

Less common was enjoying the physical sensation. Heavy rain sucked, mostly, but light rain? Not unpleasant. Admittedly that was both because I had lived in a rural area without much pollution to turn the rain into something more dangerous, and because shelter was generally nearby. But I actually kind of liked getting caught out in the rainfall as long as those conditions applied.

Unfortunately for me, neither of those things applied to me while I was trudging my way out of some park in Gotham City. A very urban environment, that both had pollution sufficient to spawn several supervillains, and a generally less than hospitable populace. Even when you didn't lack a legal ID, didn't have a funny accent, and of course, weren't just generally a clear and obvious 'weirdo' yourself.

And well… I was weird now. Maybe not physically, but I didn't sound like a local. Didn't act like a local. Also… well, I was kind of magic.

I thought. I mean, I was pretty sure. At bare minimum I really really hoped.

Rushing along the path, I found the gates to outside the park… Closed. Probably to keep homeless people out of it at night. Which was dickish, and might imply bad things for me staying here.

Also a problem. Or maybe a solution? Walking up to one of the big cement pillars, I brought my hand to it, reaching to its surface, and after a moment of nervousness… Before pushing into the stone.

So yeah. Magic. I was definitely magic.

As my finger sunk in however I felt a sudden tension hit me, and I paused in the middle of my casting, pressing a little further- No, bad. Okay, how about…

I pulled my finger down without resistance. Dragging a 'line all the way to the cobblestone, before quickly pulling to the side, back up, then across again, then down… and done.

With a push, the newly carved door to my Hideaway swung open, revealing a small, closet-like space that was, nevertheless, bigger than the outside of the pillar it was carved into.

I hesitated a moment, looking at that gap, the blatant break in physics, so much more overt than anything leading up to it…

Then with another distant crack of thunder, went ahead and crammed myself into it and out of the rain.

It was dark. Also cramped enough to set off those 'mild' claustrophobic tendencies I'd accumulated in my youth. And the rain was coming down behind me, with no way to close the 'door' I'd carved to get inside, but… Well, better than out in the rain.

Though between my travel time, casting time, and hesitation, I was also now outright soaked. And, somewhat alarmingly, I noted the water was mildly itchy. Which I was really hoping was just my head playing with me.

Luckily, I had a spell for that! Well, not for the mental part, but for the soaked in possibly mildly acidic rain part. Also not technically a spell, but a Cantrip.

Because that was my magic. Cantrips. No proper magic spells. No deep workings. No elaborate rites. No fireball. Just a very wide collection of what Gandalf would call 'cheap tricks'.

I could refine them beyond that. Make them something impressive, eventually, if I put in the days, years and decades of effort... But magically speaking, it was just the barest of bare basics, and only that.

Which, you know, was still fucking magic. Which I shouldn't complain about. And should be grateful for, given what I'd gambled and paid- what we'd gambled and paid for me to get even just that. Not the least of which being sent to fucking Gotham, where I was both stuck, and would continue to be stuck for the near future…

I was getting sidetracked. Needed to focus on the immediate issues. Such as using Prestidigi-

Another weak point screamed out at me in warning. As the Cantrip, uncast, but dangerously fragile, started to spool up within my immaterial grasp, before I quickly 'let go' and let discharge harmlessly, bending reality around me to…. Release a bunch of rather sad looking, short lived and slow drifting sparks from my fingers.

"Fuck," I cursed, as I carefully reached for Prestidigitation again-

Oh… oh that was bad. Okay. No panic. I'd known some of the Cantrips would take time to fully 'settle', I just hadn't known what that would mean. I could feel that both bits of magic were still intact but..

Okay this was going to take some exploration.

I exhaled softly, as I closed my eyes and felt out the full one hundred minor magics now embedded into my very being.

What I felt was… not great. Almost all of them were unstable in at least one way. Some, like Hideaway had issues if I tried to make them affect the world too long. Others had their reach sharply reduced. Almost all the ones with reach, actually. Again, I could still work with them if I kept careful and 'undercast' them. The third, most problematic type of issue were the ones where the entire magic was unstable. Or rather their connection to me was unstable. I could use them once, Prestidigitation was still there, but if I tried to cast it again, I could tell something very bad would happen to that connection.

And I didn't know how to fix it.

Well, fuck. What did that leave me with?

Eleven. Eleven of my one hundred Cantrips were entirely stable. Blessing, Blood Money, Fist, Goodberry, Knock, Muffle, Pocket, Raise Dead, Rune, Witch's Brew.

Everything else was afflicted by at least one form of instability.

That was…

Not as bad as it could be. I could work with those Cantrips, even without factoring in the 'partially' functional ones. Blessing, Blood Money, and Goodberry in particular would make a lot of early life a lot easier. Rune and Witch's Brew would probably help a lot once I got my feet under me as well.

Also Pocket and Fist, because this was still fucking Gotham, so… yeah. I needed to be able to keep on my toes.

Actually, just in case, I went ahead and stored what few valuables I still had (if only for sentimental reasons) into my Pocket. The tiny hand sized portal opening as I carefully stored the only records I had of my home.

With that done, I needed to take a full stock of my situation. Prestidigitation was out for the moment. I'd need to fix that in the future if I was going to properly master all one hundred Cantrips and be ready for my job of passing them on. But for now, I had to focus on my more immediate priorities.

Step one, endure the rain, escape the park, ideally without being arrested.

Step two, find some kind of shelter that would last longer than half an hour, and ideally had some kind of furniture.

Step three, manage some form of funding.

Step four would be the magic thing. Until I reached that point, magic would have to be what I'd use to live, not what I'd live for.

I think I could manage that. Okay. Plan set. Well, goals at least. The plan was just 'hide out in my hideaway

Now… I just needed to put it into action.
 
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Chapter 1 Part 2
Part 2

I had to recast Hideaway twice before the rain broke, and had actually ended up forcefully ejected by the third Casting due to having lost track of time leaning up against the wall, trying to rest.

I needed to start work on refining that Cantrip ASAP. Not only would enough development let me expand it, and put in some basic amenities (like chairs, or chair shapes anyway), if I refined it enough I could bind a few castings of it to an Item as an enchantment. That might be more stable.

Also it'd let me build a really cool looking magical item. Like… what shape should I even make it? A house key? Maybe a doorknob? Maybe a roll up carpet/poster 'door'? Nah, not that one, that'd be too bulky to carry around casually.

Speaking of refining Cantrips. While I waited out in the cold I'd done my best to make use of some other bits of magic to keep myself warm.

Firebolt. Normally a combat cantrip. It was unstable in the 'ranged' way. Most ranged cantrips seemed to be, which… made sense kind of? That part of them was less generally 'set' in what it was capable of so it could 'grow', be refined into something greater. However, the cost of this was that it also clearly made it less stable in that aspect.

Likewise, the cantrips that you'd want to refine their duration had issues holding together too long. Which both Hideaway and Mage Armor counted as unfortunately. Though they did remain 'stable' as long as I kept recasting it once its reduced duration ran dry. The instability seemed to only be a problem if I 'overtaxed' some part of the spell that was considered 'important'.

Which really. went a long way to explain why Prestidigitation was so unstable. That Cantrip was a swiss army knife of functions, able to do a bit of everything, and as an end result everything was important in it. Its multifaceted nature made holding it together… difficult

Still, just because a Cantrip wasn't stable didn't mean I couldn't use it. As long as they weren't unstable in their 'connection'. Even that might be usable with care. Prestidigitation seemed to be… 'healing' for lack of a better term. Maybe cooling off was a better way to put it? I didn't know if it'd recover fully, if it'd be safe to use again if it did. Hopefully I wouldn't need to cross that bridge until I got a second opinion.

But like I'd mentioned before, I had more immediate concerns.

For the moment I had to get out of this park.

I looked up at the gate I'd just spent my time hiding in. It was…. Not actually that formidable.

I mean sure, it was tall, there were some impressive gargoyles on the cement pillars, but it was just a gate? The fence was more problematic. Brick and steelwork more than ten feet tall. It could probably be climbed pretty easily by a parkour expert, but that was something I very much was not.

What I was however, was a mage! Kind of a shitty one, and just starting out, but I was definitely magic!

Okay so… what magic to use? Flight? Nope. I could not do that. There were cantrips that could theoretically let me fly, with work, if I pushed them in the right ways far enough, but nothing immediate.

Okay how about conjuring something to help? A platform, or rope, or something like that? I'd already conjured a raincoat out of Mage Armor, so I knew some spells that made things could be used for at least a short while.

Unfortunately, all the ones that would be useful for this were the less useful of options. I had cantrips that could conjure both useful items, and summon a spectral mount, but both were heavily unstable, both in connection and duration.

Well. There was one summoning spell that was entirely stable. But… yeah no. I wasn't trying that one in fucking Gotham. Not until I'd gotten a lot better at this magic thing anyway.

So what else did that leave me? Phase through the gate? I did have a Cloudshape Cantrip, but it had the same issues, also, at its most basic level I couldn't make all of me immaterial.

Okay how about teleportation?

Surprisingly, this was my best option. Two cantrips, Gate which was a complete non-option, every bit as unstable as Prestidigitation was, but there was also a more direct teleportation cantrip that only had issues with range. Big issues with range admittedly, but…

I eyed the large locked gate again, looking past it to the open, seemingly empty streets beyond.

"Okay," I exhaled. "I can do this. I will do this. It's just like the other stuff."

Except it was even more likely to leave me lodged halfway through a bunch of steel bars.

Hah. Okay, magic time.

I raised my hands, inhaling sharply as I began a low, complex chant. This one wasn't like Firebolt. It wasn't easy to cast and recast. In fact it was even more elaborate than my Hideaway cantrip was. At least at my current level. I needed to aim properly.

I pressed my hands together, twisting them towards the gate, or rather the space beyond it, threading fingers together first to forge the connection, linking space to space.

Shift to align parallels. Lock the origin and destination. Let the distance become close, become the same. Break apart the illusion of space to the revelation that everything is a whole. Definition is only a variable. A variable I can command. A variable I can change.

There is no space. As I split my hands apart, I am already beyond the gate. I just need to stop being where I began.

Clapping my hand back together in a single, loud, cracking sound as the world… Blinked.

And I stumbled, stumbling beyond the gate, because I did not factor in how fucking disorienting that fucking was. Air pressure. Fuck. Ow. Not actually that painful but… I holy shit.

"I…" I looked back through the gate, to where I'd been standing ten seconds earlier, then down to my feet, then back to the spot.

"I just fucking teleported," I uttered. Then threw a fist into the sky, "I just fucking teleported! Fuck yeah!"

BEEP BEEP! "GET OFF THE ROAD!" Roared out from my side.

OH-FU-

Running back to the sidewalk and off the fucking road, painting heavily from the shock, exertion and… well fucking everything.

"Holy shit I'm a wizard," I uttered. Then gave another quick fist pump. Fucking wizard bitches!

Also nearly died. Which was bad. Hahahah.

Okay… okay… so… Step one done. Step two… that was finding shelter. In Gotham. Late enough at night I'd only seen one other person and they'd been in a car…

…It probably was possible. Yeah. I could do this. If nothing else? I could just… I dunno, open another few Hideaways in some alley and wait until morning. Certainly there was something available at this time of night. I mean this was a city right?

I mean I was a fucking wizard. I totally had this!
 
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Chapter 1 Part 3
Part 3

I did not 'have it'. I didn't 'have it' in the slightest. In fact I so didn't have it, that not only did I completely fail to find a place to stay, I even screwed up the Hideaway part of my backup plan.

Turns out. If you're leaning on the wrong part of the inner wall when the duration runs out, the way it collapses will not just push you out of the thing, but outright launch you.

Which was… actually kind of cool? But unfortunately also painful.

Not too painful, luckily, I'd been worried I'd broken my nose, which would have been bad, since I was not some action hero who could just reset my own broken bits. I did have a few healing cantrips, they were all either highly unstable, were limited to things like cuts, bruises, and bad feelings, or outright didn't have actual medical use at the base level.

Which still helped. Heck, Goodberry technically was a medical Cantrip, the berries not only filled me as much as a full meal (which was very appreciated), but they could, eventually, be given healing properties. If I worked at it enough.

And given how few resources I had… I was probably going to work on it enough, just through raw use if nothing else. Given my lack of money and legal ID, I'd probably be living off them.

At least they tasted pretty good. Even at the base level I could basically make any 'small' fruit I liked, and this time I'd opted for Strawberry.

Not as filling as the D&D version though. As the sun rose, I found myself already getting a bit hungry.

And sore. I was a bit tempted to use Blessing again, to try and fix up my feet and knees. I'd been walking around the entire night at this point, and I'd honestly started off worn out, even if the excitement of my circumstances had given me some momentary energy. And while I did have another cantrip that could help with that, Vigor, it's effects were limited.

At full functionality, Vigor was supposed to do two things at its most basic level. It was supposed to provide the energy of a short nap, and increase my resistance to being tired for its full (one minute) duration. In its current state? Well half a minute of exhaustion resistance was… probably handy? Situationally maybe. I wasn't sure how it'd work with knock out gas or sleep spells.

More importantly, while it had given me a burst of wakefulness, repeated castings had been less effective. And it did nothing for the actual physical strain of being up and active for so long, even if I wasn't doing a lot more than walking. It didn't help that it wasn't the warmest weather, even without the rain.

I was nearing my limit. I needed a place to sit and try to get some proper rest and nowhere looked particularly appealing.

With a bit of morbid amusement, I realized I probably should have just stayed in the freaking park. At least there were benches there. Not even the asshole anti-homeless kind.

Maybe I could go back there? Was it open today? Or even open to the public? Sun was crawling up there, even if I wasn't sure when exactly it was.

Ugh, maybe I could just… find a spot in some side alley. Give my knees a rest. Blessing seemed to help with that in the short term at least, and heck, as a side effect, it'd even ward away 'violent intentions'. That might help keep me from getting mugged! Even if the Cantrip would only last for a few minutes.

Yeah, by this point, even a fifteen minute power nap sounded great. Even if it was beside a garbage can on cold, hard pavement. Maybe that'd reset Vigor and let it chew off the rest of my exhaustion? Or at least some of it.

Moving into the first relatively dry and clear alleyway I could find, I took a minute to stagger down it, looking up and down… it smelled faintly of piss, but not as strong as the payphone I'd walked past earlier. Decent amount of graffiti, but I didn't see anything that jumped out as gang symbols. Just your standard swears, dicks, and genuine attempts at art.

It'd do.

C-click! "Now, no sudden movements," gruffed out a harsh voice behind me.

Oh you gotta be kidding me.

"Wallet, watch, and anything else you got!" the voice demanded.

"I… don't have any of those," I bluffed, reaching to my sides and pulling my physical pockets inside out, so glad I'd already stored my valuables in my extradimensional Pocket, before reaching up to the sky. Both to make it clear my hands were empty… and well.

There were a lot of offensive cantrips which were easily cast in that position. And not all of them needed me to aim.

"Wha… Don't start shit with me? I've got a gun, I have used it before," the gruff voice of my would be mugger replied, now sounding less harsh and more put out.

"I don't have anything," I defended. "I mean… look, you're not going to steal the shirt off my back are you? It's cold as hell and I'm down to a T-shirt already," my Mage Armor had expired long ago, and without the rain around to justify the risk of being spotted re-conjuring it, I hadn't bothered.

"I don't want your fucking T-shirt, look. Those are some nic- shit. Those are absolutely shit shoes. What the fuck even are those?" he asked.

"Crocs?" I tried.

"Are those some kind of designer slippers or something?" he tried.

"Noo… cheap molded plastic," I replied. "Cost me eight bucks Canadian- are you stealing my shoes?" I asked him, rather worried about that. It was cold. Even with healing magic, walking around barefoot…

"You, got nothing?" He asserted.

"Only what I'm wearing," I asserted. "Check yourself, pat me down if you have to. I have absolutely nothing of value on me."

They did exactly that, moving ahead and rapping their hand roughly against all my visible pockets, sides, back, shoulder.

"Fuck man," he said. "Did someone already mug you?"

"Kinda?" I said. "Look… I just woke up here a few hours ago. This is Gotham, right?" I asked.

"Turn around," he ordered.

Not being an idiot I complied, and to my relief, he was not pointing his gun at me. Less relieving, said gun was very much present, raised upward, and ready with the owner of said weapon's finger resting up beside the trigger in a manner that seemed every… professional.

I got the vibe he wasn't lying when he said he'd used it before.

The man himself was open faced, which was, if anything more concerning, pencil mustache, light blue eyes, black hair with a bit of gray, I'd put him late thirties-ish with a lot of wear. Also surprisingly well dressed for a mugger, business suit and fedora.

"Am I… in someone's territory?" I asked, alarmed, as I realized how very classically gangster-like he seemed. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I wasn't supposed to be here."

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Now who the fuck did you piss off enough to dump your ass, high and dry in Gotham."

"I… dunno?" I said with a shrug, hands still up.

"Put your hands down. I'm not mugging someone who doesn't have anything worth stealing" he said flatly, tucking away his gun. Notably not doing anything with the safety as he did so.

I put down my hands, and after a second's hesitation, removed my finger from the mental 'triggers' I had prepared, the primary of which was to conjure a spirit bow just a bit above and behind his head, which would have automatically shot him through it.

I was ready to turn my palms outward and unleash bolts of fire and/or lighting, beams of ice, bolts of razor sharp crystal, or… whatever the fuck you called Eldritch Blast though. I was being optimistic here, not stupid.

"You got anyone you can call for help?" he asked me.

"Uh… no," I admitted.

"I'm not trying to hold you hostage either," he said bluntly.

"No, seriously, I don't have anyone," I said, shaking my head.

"No one," he repeated . "No friends? Family? Coworkers?"

"I have no ties to anyone on this Earth," I said earnestly. It was even true in the technical sense. "I was self employed- well, family shop, but well. That's gone too. I got nothing. No connections."

"Well fuck," he said. "Not sure if that's rough or something to find enviable."

"From my perspective?" I said. "Kinda sucks. I mean… I was just looking for a corner to sit down in and try and sleep."

"That is a state I'm more familiar with," he said. "But you ain't doing it here."

"That's fair. Thank you again for not shooting me," I replied.

"Stop thanking me, whaddya think you are, Canadian?" he asked.

"Uh… formerly?" I said.

"Fuck," he replied, eyebrows shooting up. "You really did piss someone off."

I sighed. "I don't suppose you know where I could crash for the night? I don't mind working to earn my way if it's simple. Or something I know how to do," I added.

That seemed to tickle his interests. "Are ya? Okay then… Why dontcha tell me your qualifications?"

I realized full well that this might not exactly be a legal job he was offering… but fuck, beggars can't be chosers. I'd just have to hope it wouldn't be anything too illegal, or that he'd accept a 'no thanks' if it was.
 
Chapter 1 Part 4

Part 4


After I completed my interview, Irwin, my almost-mugger and now prospective employer, gave me a nod, considered my story, then lead me out to a shady as fuck looking warehouse by the docks.

Which, you know, normally I might give a pass… except that I had pretty much no ready options outside of that, and was feeling pretty damned tired at this point.

Luckily, rather than a large array of sharp, pointy 'hobby tools' and plastic tarps… there wasn't really much of anything. In fact there was nothing outright, until Irwin went up to the warehouse office, and fished out a shitty plastic folding chair and a towel that I could use as 'bedding' for the night.

I'd eyed the office he'd pulled them from, which, despite not looking warm or comfy, still looked a lot warmer and comfier than a folding chair in the middle of an empty wearhouse…

"Forget it," he said, reading me like a book. "I'm willing to trust, but not trust that much," he said bluntly. "Stick around until the morning and there might be work. That work might pay under the table enough for you to get a hot meal, or warm coat. Maybe, if you put in an honest effort and actually get some shit done."

I considered my odds, and decided not to press. This was still better than being out exposed in a piss smelling alleyway. Fish smelling warehouse with an actual roof? Massive upgrade all things considered, drafty or not.

"I'll be here," I said, agreeing at once. Again, not like I had much choice. This was, quite frankly, stupid good luck all things considered.

Didn't feel like it. But fuck it, this was the smallest part of the price for magic.

And it wasn't like I couldn't do things to help.

"-invoke thy mercy. To be a ward against pain, against ill-thought, against harm and actions come to regret. A Blessing to mend that which aches, to shield against wrath-" I chanted as I carefully, as I walked in a circle around the chair.

At the same time, I moved my hands up and down, twisting them around in vaguely tai-chi like motions, pressing up against and smoothing out… Stuff, that was immaterial as it was rough, and apparently connected to the very concept of violence. Soothing it into something more peaceful, constructive.

Kinda like feng shui, except manual, and you know, a lot more dramatic.

Okay not that much more dramatic. Not yet.

"Be soothed, be healed, and in turn heal those within your bounds in turn. Let this warehouse be a place of sanctuary, of succor of grace… Did it take?" i asked as I finished my final rotation.

I stepped into the 'circle' I'd been walking around, closed my eyes and-

"Ooooooh… That's the good shit," I exhaled, as at once all my pains- well most of it. The old aches, the scars, the joints all eased up at once, even my knees eased up on their complaints for a little longer..

Sitting myself down in the chair, I gave myself a once over. I wasn't as dirty as I feared, but… yeah I was going to need to find a shower at some point. And a change of clothes. Fuck, How did normal people living on the street manage this? I should probably try and get a bag? I mean I had Pocket, but…

I started kicking off a croc, thought better of it, and carefully removed it.

Feet looked fine. That was good, no signs of frostbite or blisters, though the second weren't exactly likely to begin with.

I put it back on. It wasn't much insulation by design, but it was better than being barefoot. "Guess that's the best I can do," I mused. Well outside of starting a fire for heat, which was… tempting, but I didn't have a pit, or a trashcan to repurpose for one, much less fuel.

I'd make do. The night was cold, but not that cold. Not with a chair to keep me off the floor.

I eased into my seat, and wrapped the towel around me like an improvised blanket. It wasn't great for that. None of this was great, but I… I should just stop complaining and try and get some rest while the Blessing held.

I exhaled, closed my eyes and just… let myself drift as much as I could.

I slept. Or maybe dozed was a better term. The sheer insanity of the day's events would probably have made it hard to sleep even if I was somewhere familiar, nevermind on something as uncomfortable as a cheap chair in the middle of an empty warehouse, but at the same time I was exhausted. Yeah, I'd only been in Gotham half a day, but…

It helped, I think. Or, at least, when I started to full awareness at the sound of the warehouse door opening, I felt like I'd gotten some rest. More than Vigor had provided.

I looked at the people opening the door and… yep, there was Irwin, and another couple of similarly gangster clad people… and what looked like a couple dozen more normal looking folks in various mixes of clothing. Several of which, who I noticed looked a lot more ratty than I did. Heck, one guy didn't even have matching shoes. Instead he had one dress shoe and one sneaker.

That… was actually really encouraging.

"Heya boss!" I said with a wave, getting myself up and trying to fold up the towel. "No break-ins overnight," I said, like I was some sort of security guard and not a squatter.

One of the other well dressed goons was a guy in his earlyish twenties, with blonde hair and gray eyes, a lot like Irwin's. Though he didn't seem to fill out his 'uniform' quite as well. He carried himself like he was a bigger guy though. Turning his head to my apparent benefactor with a cocky smirk on his lips. "You a Boss now, Irwin?"

The older man scowled at him, "Shutaap," He snapped at the younger man, before looking at me and giving a nod.

I shrugged. "You pay me for work, you're the boss. Don't care if it's cash or a sandwich," I said like it was some personal life philosophy.

The younger goon nodded, "I can respect that. Hey Bill!" he said, turning to the third 'professional' in their group.

"We'll see how he works first," 'Bill' replied in kind. Blue eyes this time, brown hair, I pegged him as early to mid thirties, tallest of the trio, powerfully built, but also looking the least comfortable in his suit, which fit him the worst.

And yet… there was something about how the other two looked at him when they talked.

"Speaking of work," I said folding up the towel as best I could setting it on the chair, wishing I could just cast Prestidigi-

Prestidigitation was usable again. Well, not casually usable. It was still unstable as hell, but it had bounced back from that 'fragile' state. If anything it kind of felt… ready. Almost eager.

That was… huh… I was tempted to experiment with that. If I could use even the really unstable Cantrips, even in a limited capacity… Well, suddenly my options doubled. More than doubled technically, though not by a lot, and probably in a less reliable way.

At the same time, I was worried that it might not actually be 'fixed', and I really didn't want to risk fucking up part of my magic when I did still have other options.

After all, there were supposed to be a few other magic users in this town right? And some of them were supposed to be decent enough people? No sense taking unneeded risks when I might be able to get the equivalent of a medical exam and expert opinion.

That'd have to wait until after I got work… and after I found out if I was going to get paid or not. Well beyond the place to stay the previous night.

And, to quote myself, speaking of work.

"Alright people!" Bill called out. "All of you here are here for a job!" He belted out, addressing the masses that had loosely followed the trio.

That call got at least most of their attention.

"It is a shit job," Bill continued unabashed. "But it is a simple job. And it is a job that pays. So listen the fuck up!" He said, tossing in a token swear for emphasis. "Sometime within the next hour, a series of deliveries is due to bring a bunch of crates to this warehouse! You are going to help unload those crates into the warehouse, do it quick, and do it without looking at whatever's inside. An hour after that, someone's going to show up with another truck, and you're going to load the crates we mark, onto that truck. Simple enough? Good. You got any questions, ask'em."

The guy with two different kinds of shoes raised his hand.

"You," Bill pointed.

"Is this job part of Bruce Wayne's secret conspiracy with the alien lizard people? Because I'm not backing any project that helps the lizard people agenda!" He said firmly.

There was a beat of consideration that, Bill looked at Irwin and thus far unnamed third gangster, back to the guy, face a mask of consideration as he lightly nodded. "Far as I know? Nope. No part in any of that."

"I'm good!" Two shoes guy said.

Another hand went up.

Bill made a finger gun. "Go."

"Uh… you said we're being paid… uh… that's with uh… money right? Or is it with…" they licked their lips. "Other stuff."

"Cash," Bill repliced, and after a moment a third hand went up, more hesitantly.

The gangster gestured again a bit less enthusiastically.

"Do we get piss breaks?" The guy, a relatively young guy only a few inches shorter than me, and probably with more than twice the muscle mass.

"If you need one, take it now. There's a porta potty three buildings down that way," Bill pointed.

The big guy started off.

"Anything else?" Bill asked.

Two shoes raised his hand again.

"I'm gonna regret this," the well-dressed probably-a-criminal admitted softly. "Okay, what do you want to know?" he asked.

"Does this shipment connect to the Wayne family's production of a secret army of alchemical birdmen assassins!?" the 'worker' asked in a slightly manic tone, before going serious again. "Because I'm less upset about that one but I still feel we'd have a right to know!"

"The Wayne's ain't involved in this," Bill said flatly.

The man with two different shoes, and apparently strong opinions about the Wayne family scoffed at that. "Yeah, right… Maybe that's what you think." Still, he didn't raise any further questions.

There were a few more questions. Some relevant, some less so. Did we need any tools? How much were we going to be paid, could we look into the crates we weren't loading into the other truck, was this an audition for the goonion, was any of this stuff radioactive, etc. The answer to most of which was no. Not the being paid part. We were being paid fifty bucks, each. Though that was if we did the job right.

Which… honestly didn't sound that bad for a simple job like this? Not with this many of us anyway.

It was enough to stick around until the first truck showed up anyway. Then I saw the size of the crates. Yeah that… made things a bit more dubious.

"Two at a time!" Irwin instructed. "Three or more if you need it! Don't try and rush stuff. Keep it smooth. Smooth is fast."

I worked with two shoes and the big guy to lift the near man sized crate, which probably weighed as much as all three of us put together, and walk it down the ramp. It wasn't the heaviest thing I'd ever helped lift, but it also wasn't the lightest. And the distance we needed to carry the thing might not be huge, but it wasn't small either. More importantly it was one of well over a hundred crates in the truck. And we were far from the smallest group lifting.

Suddenly that fifty bucks seemed a lot less generous… though still probably more than I could easily find under the counter anywhere else in town.

And also lucky… I had magic.

"For the queen, for the hive. Might of the small. Boulders are pebbles, we carry them all. Animal Aspect strengthen my back. Carry this burden, build up the stack," I chanted, refreshing a short lived, semi-stable cantrip right as it expired from its brief, thirty second duration.

Luckily, this one didn't need gestures.

Less luckily, it didn't do a lot. Animal Aspect let me channel the totems of small harmless animals to raise any of my base physical aspects by about ten percent. Even focusing that specifically to lifting strength… it wasn't a huge boost. But it was enough to keep the mantra going.

"For the queen, for the hive-" I began to repeat.

"The hell are you mumbling?" The big guy asked.

"-Might of the small. Boulders are pebbles-" I continued unabated.

"Some kinda… mystic mantra I think?" Two shoes said, as he lifted beside me. "He's lifting a little more each time he says it."

"-the burden, build up the stack." I finished moments before the Cantrip ended. "It's a technique," I grunted. "Lets me carry more."

"Whatever man," the big guy said, paying it no further mind.

Because why would it be? I wasn't being flashy. The Cantrip was barely doing anything, and unlike a lot of others had no visible effect. The weirdest part was me chanting it.

It did however get on some people's nerves.

About three crates in the big guy hit his limit. "Can't you just say that in your head?"

"Nah man, that's now how magic works, you need to say it out loud," Two shoes said.

"Not for all magic," I said, unable to help myself from correcting him.

"Yeah, but for that one, right?" he asked. "And I knew it was magic!"

The big guy snorted. "Yeah. Very fancy magic."

"What makes you say it's magic?" I asked the lopsidedly dressed conspiracy theorist.

"I've done my research!" the man asserted. "The Great Zatara? Doctor Fate? Everyone's heard of those two. But how about Blackbriar Thorn? How about Tobias Wayne the secret Diabolist? Even the modern day Scarface is not, in fact, a simple madman with a dummy, but a actual possessing spirit with a number of mortal patsies!"

"Ah…" I said. "I… have no idea who any of those are," I said bluntly.

"Wha… and you call yourself a wizard?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "I'm from out of town? Also I never told you I was a wizard."

"You're not denying it," he accused.

"Leave him off, Jimmy,' The big guy said.

"He's not denying it Frank," The spindly guy said.

"If I was magic… would you really wanna disturb me?" I asked 'Jimmy'.

"Yes," he said bluntly.

And… for some reason? That struck a chord with me.

"Fine, I'm a wizard," I admitted.

"SEE!" The conspiracy theorist grinned.

'Frank' groaned. "Now why the hell did you have to say that?"

"Well… I am a wizard," I said. "Just not a really good one."

Frank turned his head to look at me. "You're a wizard."

"I'll show you when we stop for lunch," I said. "Don't pass it around though. People will ask me to regrow their arms, resurrect their loved ones, or give them winning lottery numbers and I can't do any of that crap," yet.

"Yeah right," Frank said. "Just keep carrying your share."
 
Chapter 1 Part 5
Part 5

"...You're actually a wizard," Frank said in shock, as he watched me conjure another Goodberry. The Fruit growing from my fingertip like a vine.

"Kind of a crappy one, but yeah," I said, breaking it off and handing it to an eager Jimmy. "I can do this. The animal totem thing. Heal small cuts and bruises. Teleport like five feet. Some very minor conjuring. Basic elementalism. Maybe some transmutation, though I'm not sure I'm up for that. The fruit is probably the most impressive thing. Each one's as good for you and filling as a full, balanced meal."

"Itsh good!" Jimmy said as he ate his berry, having confirmed them 'safe' by having me eat the first one. Not that I was complaining.

"So wait, like… turning people into toads?" he asked warily.

"I can't turn people into toads," I said, shaking my head.

"And… fireballs?" he asked warily.

"...I can't turn people into toads," I repeated.

"Hahaha… fuck. Uh… so when I was complaining earlier. You know I did not mean anything by that right?" he asked.

"Frank- can I call you Frank?" I asked.

"...yes?" he said hesitantly.

"Right, you can call me Reed by the way," I introduced myself. "Frank. I'm not a superhero. I'm not a supervillain either. I am barely even what you could consider 'super', and that itself is a tangled mess of commitments that mean I'm probably neither going to bother with either of those 'career' paths." I explained.

"But… magic?" he tried, seemingly not getting that. "I mean… fireballs and magic food?"

"Yes, magic," I replied. "Which, yes, lets me do fireballs and food, but does not, let me conjure up a house," yet. "Or give me a stable income," yet. "I know a few tricks, but being a wizard isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"Can you teach me?" Jimmy suddenly interjected having finished his Goodberry.

"...No," I said after a moments consideration.

"Wha? Why not? Is it some bloodline thing? Did I need to be born when the stars are right? Do some ritual? Bath in the blood of a rainbow serpent?" he asked.

"No, I'm just not skilled enough to teach," I said. "And I mean that literally, and this isn't false modesty. Like I said, I got commitments due to it. I'm like… a year's worth of solid practice away from being able to teach someone. And by teach someone I mean show them the basics. And that's if I'm focusing on a single bit of magic. Which I probably can't do, because a lot of my day is just trying to survive like the rest of you."

"So what, we bring you cash and stuff, and you can teach us magic, eventually?" Jimmy asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"If you had the money for a house and a lab, why the fuck are you working here?" I asked him in turn. "I'll teach you some stuff later, maybe, when I can do it without risking turning you into a rat, or popping you like a blood balloon."

"I thought you said you couldn't do rats!" Frank said, eyes shooting wide!

"I said I can't do frogs," I argued. "And I can't… On purpose… look, magic is fucking weird," I said defensively.

Frank looked over at Jimmy, "You sure this is a good idea?" he asked, seeming even more nervous now.

"Definitely," Jimmy said, absolutely locked in. "So you can teach us magic later?'

"Eventually. When I get stuff down right," I said less than enthusiastically. "I could probably make some enchanted stuff you might be able to use earlier, if you'll front some resource costs at me," I added after a moment's consideration. "But I am genuinely new to this shit, and need practice. Teaching someone magic you haven't mastered is… bad. Well bad for me. Worse for you," I said.

That made the seemingly paranoid man slightly more considerate, "How bad?"

"You'd end up crippled," I said bluntly. "Not 'could', end up crippled. Would. Maybe if you were some kind of magic savant, with special powers that can copy stuff just by seeing it, you'd be fine, but that'll only happen if you've got some sort of special magical bloodline, blessing, or superpower you're hiding from us. For normal folks? It's like asking a first day med student to operate on you, with a dirty kitchen knife. Bad fucking idea."

"So that's it?" Frank asked, actually seeming to calm down the more I warned them about how bad it could be. Maybe because he got, I got how dangerous this stuff could be?

"That's it," I confirmed. "I basically got the magic equivalent of tuition to a medical school… well the correspondence course for it… Okay maybe just some loose textbooks- Not literal books," I clarified. "It's not that kind of magic. You get it from a ritual with a senior practitioner, which I again, am not."

"And no way we could sign up for that?" Jimmy asked, seeming frustrated.

I shrugged. "Probably a few other wizards in town, but my teacher dropped me off here, and left me high and dry."

"That's rough buddy," Frank said. "So… magic items? What kind of time and cost are we talking about?"

"I still need some practice… call it a week?" I ballparked. "In the meanwhile I can still hand out more magic fruit, but the only magical part of it is how filling it is," also its origin, obviously.

Then a thought occurred, "I can also heal scrapes and bruising. But only light injuries like that. Nothing you'd need a hospital for."

"What about that weird Ant spell? Could you cast that on me or Frank?" Jimmy interjected, seeming interested now that I was seeming compliant.

"Ah man.. I kinda wish," I said looking at Frank. "The boost is proportional to your base, so he'd probably get a lot more out of it then I would… but it's also one of those ones I can only use directly on myself."

"Ah well, magic fruit's magic fruit at least," Jimmy commented, rubbing at his stomach, and then frowning as he looked down.

"Something wrong?" I asked, a little worried I'd messed up the spell somehow.

"Nah just… weird. I'm not hungry. It was a tiny little berry but it's really like I just ate a full course meal."

"Oh, that," I said. "Yeah, there's a sort of… Disconnect between how much you chew and how full you feel. You do get used to it if you survive on them long enough." It was a ration, after all. That it tasted good at all, was basically gravy.

Huh, I wondered if I could eventually make a gravy flavored Goodberry.

"That makes sense," Jimmy nodded along. "Mastication is one of the big triggers for the brain's reward response when it comes to food. That's why chewing gum sells so well. It's a trick by big business to keep the population feel as satisfied as they would enjoying a home cooked meal with their family! Bastards… Clever bastards admittedly, but bastards, all of them!" he spat. .

"Jimmy, sometimes I think you just make up new words." Frank said with a sigh.

"Every word I say is real, and true, and you know it," The odd conspiracy nu- enthusiast said.

"Hey!" Bill called out. "Breaks over!" he said with a clear unspoken 'get back to work'.
 
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Chapter 1 Part 6
Part 6

The rest of our 'work shift' actually went surprisingly smooth. Truck showed up, we loaded up the crates, got paid, then moved on.

And by 'We' I mean me, Jimmy and Frank, since the pair had magnanimously decided to stick with me, and even help me find a new coat.

"And shoes," Jimmy said. "With good, warm socks, this time of year."

I looked at the Conspiracy Enthusiast, then down to his mismatched shoes.

"He ain't wrong," Frank confirmed in his friend's defense.

"Hey, I know how it looks!" Jimmy said. "I got mismatched feet! Lefty's a size eleven, righties a size thirteen! I know what I'm talking about."

"Anything else?" I asked.

"A hat," both suggested at once.

"Also a bag, backpack, whatever, big as you can get, tough as you can find," Frank suggested.

"There's lots of stuff you need," Jimmy agreed, nodding along. "Sleeping bag, blanket, first aid kit. Cash, obviously. You're covered for food at least."

"That's a big expense written off," Frank agreed.

Sounded like I was going to be living off Goodberry for the near future. Nothing unexpected there.

"Other big one's shelter," Frank said. "You got ID?"

"Nada," I replied. "I'm not even sure I legally 'exist'."

"Pfh, Lucky," Jimmy said.

Frank however looked worried. "Not lucky. What exactly do you mean by 'not exist'?" he asked me.

"I'm… technically from another world?" I said, not sure if I should be admitting this. "Still human. Actually I'm probably more human than you are genetically."

That seemed to freak out the heavily built guy even more, "What do you mean by that!?"

"Well- okay this is a long story," I said. "You ever hear of Heracles? Or the ancient Pharaohs? Demigods and all that?" I asked.

"My dad is an entirely normal deadbeat from Cleveland," Frank said at once. "He ain't no Zeus."

"Well no, but the point was, those ancient heroes? A lot of them had kids, and those kids were also special. Not as special, but stronger, healthier, prettier, generally more successful," I said.

"Survival traits!" Jimmy locked in on, at once. "So divine heritage became common heritage?" he deduced.

"Or other stuff," I agreed slowly. "The fae, aliens, metas, other powers… Most people have something interesting if you go far back enough," I explained. Happy to explain something I actually knew about this crazy world I'd been dropped into.

"So wait, you're saying everyone's a demigod?" Frank didn't look like he bought that.

"Kinda?" I said. "Not really. I mean… It's real thin. But without it people wouldn't be as tough, as strong, as pretty, It might even be part of why some people go meta or something. I don't know the details."

"So you're from a place with greater divine ancestry!?" Jimmy asked practically bouncing.

"The opposite," I said, dashing that. "I've got nothing interesting in my lineage. No inherent magic at all… which apparently made me the ideal person to cram a bunch of new magic into. That's actually why I know this stuff," I explained.

"Ooooh…" Jimmy said, easing down, before his eyes shot wide. "OOOH! That's why teaching magic is dangerous! You need to work around the inherent inhuman ancestry most people have!"

"...Pretty much?" I said. "I think. Maybe? I'm not sure on the why, I was just warned about the risk," I explained. "I mean, that does make sense. But, again… I'm a guy who was loaded with the basics. I don't actually know a huge amount about magic. I'm hoping to fix that when I can, but I'm very, very new to the whole wizard thing."

"Yeah, well… No ID means that you can't check into any decent homeless shelter," Frank said.

I winced, "I was worried about that." I had no idea about how to go about correcting it either. "Probably can't register as an interdimensional refugee either," I replied pressing my mouth into a line.

"Fuck no!" Jimmy replied vehemently. "Do you know the kind of labs they'd spook you off to? The vivisections? The gene modifying experiments? Do you want to be spliced with the DNA of a cockroach? Because that's how you end up spliced with the DNA of a cockroach!"

"Yeah, no," I agreed. "Not a fun idea. They'd probably want to move me into some other city anyway, and I kinda need to stay in Gotham for a while anyway."

"You do? What for?" Franky asked.

"I do," I replied simply.

"Okay, but why?" he asked again.

Why…? "I… magic reasons?" I said. "Like I said I don't know all the details, but it'd be bad for my health if I left. Might be a magic pressure thing. Gotham's one of the most supernaturally active cities on the continent."

"Wait, it is?" Jimmy asked. "I knew it! I knew the Waynes had some sinister reason for founding a city here! What is it? Satanic rituals? Human sacrifice? The breeding nest of the great old ones?"

"Hey!" Frank defended. "Don't just assume shit. Maybe it's not bad? Zatara was part of the Justice league and they do the magic thing right?"

"Exactly!" Jimmy defended. "Why else would a magic using hero stay around here unless there was serious bad mojo they needed to keep on top of!?" he asked, before turning to me. "Well?"

Frank also looked my way, presumably hoping for me to prove him wrong.

"...It's not technically Satan?" I said apologetically. "But… yeah. Kind of a hell mouth- or spooky mouth. Dimensional weak point," I clarified. "Of the spookier, nastier end."

"HAH!" Jimmy crowed.

"Ugh… you just had to- wait, why would you wanna hang around that!?" Frank asked, suddenly wary again.

I had no idea. "Well… for one I can probably help out with that?" I said. "I've got a decent bit of purification magic… Well, in theory. Haven't tried most of it. Also it could be a pressure thing. Large amounts of external magic helping me hold all this new magic in. Sort of like an iron lung to help with The Bends. Might also be an immunization thing, since I don't have a lot of magic exposure. Help me build up a tolerance before I start slinging around serious mojo."

I was spitballing, but all those things felt like they could be right.

"Right, because you don't have any god blood or whatever-" Jimmy said. "Hey, wait, is that why you're so weak and ugly? I mean I'm like half your size and you were barely lifting more of that crate than I was!"

My eye twitched, "Yes. Yes it is."

"Man that must suck for you- oh hey, I've got more questions!" he exclaimed excitedly.
 
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Chapter 1 Part 7
Part 7

Luckily, Frank proposed switching to a 'question for a question' format before Jimmy could get too enthusiastic. Which let me work out some handy things like 'did they know a place I could sleep for the night'.

Which, thankfully, they did. Or rather Jimmy did. Frank actually did stay in a proper homeless shelter, and was working on getting out of the whole 'homeless' situation to begin with.

Which, you know, all power to him. And not just because that could potentially open him up as a couch surfing option.

Jimmy, being the sane and rational individual that he was, had differing opinions. He apparently was vehemently against an 'on the grid' lifestyle, though he was begrudgingly willing to accept something that was part of the grid. Or rather 'a' grid. Kinda. More of a network.

"It's a boxcar," I noted, looking at the large, vaguely shipping-container-like cargo railway trailer.

"Yep! And there are dozens of them around here," Jimmy explained.

"And… no one cares if we use them? They're fully abandoned?" I asked, looking around, unable to shake the nerves I'd started getting once he led me through a hole quite deliberately cut through the chain link fence around the area.

An admittedly, very rusty and decrepit chain-link fence, but still. People who fenced off areas tended to be touchy about other people slipping through them. At least people without an invitation of some kind.

"Does anyone care? Nope!" Jimmy said with a sly, almost smug look. "Abandoned…" at this point he grimaced. "Also nope. This is more what you call 'seasonal lodgings'. We gotta clear out at the start of the next business quarter in a couple of months, but the weather should clear up by then, and no one gives a shit right now. Well, outside of Genma the security guy who swings around every odd week. And as long as no one causes any messes… Okay, there are a few conditions." he admitted.

That… weirdly made me feel more comfortable with the set up than otherwise. "But if we follow those conditions?"

"No one gives a fuck," he confirmed.

I could work with that.

"Sounds good," I said, now scouting out the surroundings with an eye more focused on appraisal than risk assessment.

It was… not bad? Like it was a big cargo car, but actually looked nicer than you'd expect from that. Vintage design, made mostly of wood by the looks of it, which was probably a good thing for helping keep the cold out. Metal construction was good for a lot of things, but thermal insulation was not one of them.

"You don't wanna go with that one," Jimmy said at once.

"Eh?" I blinked, looking over at him. "Okay, but why?"

"It's a Smith and Wayne three hundred series," Jimmy explained, before further elaborating. "Made of locally sourced timber, and constructed with extra-terrestrial instructions to contaminate its cargo with a mind altering compound that evaporates off the wood after it absorbs moisture. The compound renders anyone who becomes to exposed to it suggestable to the sort of audio frequencies you'll hear off of radio advertisements."

He said this with an entirely straight face, and serious tone of voice. Following it up with a solemn, "I know you're broke now, but trust me, you'll stay broke if you let them get to you. That's how the Waynes keep us common folk down!"

"...I see," I said, blinking. Then frowned, "Sourced from Slaughter Swamp?"

"Yep! And boy, I've got stories about that place too," he said.

"I bet," I agreed, before looking around. "Okay then… what one should I pick?"

"Well first, I gotta introduce you to the neighbors," he suggested. "You'll like Ivy- no connection to the Supervillian, Stewart, Sally, Oscar and Joe" he said, listing through names rapid fire, before suddenly stopping "Oh man. Joe!! You gotta meet Boxcar Joe!" he said, beginning to tug me eagerly further up the apparently out closed down rail line.

That name rang a bell to me. "Boxcar joe?" I asked hoping for more details.

"Yep! The Boxcar Joe! Oh man, you'll like him! He's just like you!" He exclaimed.

"A mage?" I asked, recalling a specific little bit from the internet.

"Wha- no, no." he shook his head dismissively, before giving a wide near manic grin, as he leaned in conspiratorially. "He's an alien!"

"Oh," I blinked. "Does he have an oddly well preserved couch?" I asked him.

"I knew there was something about the couch!" Jimmy exclaimed, eyes lighting up in delight. Before turning to look at me suspiciously, "Wait, how did you know about the couch? I thought you were new to this dimension?"

"I…" I paused. "Lucky guess?" I said experimentally.

Jimmy gave me a look of clear doubt.

"Okay, he might be someone I know of," I said. "Big might on that. And only in minor detail if it is him."

"You've heard about Boxcar Joe in another reality" he asked. "Is he some shadowy avatar of an outer god, here to offer up us mortals as entertainment slash food for his dark, unknowable masters?"

"No, just… kind of a guy?" I said. "One with infamously bad luck with portals? It seriously might not be the same guy," I cautioned. "'Boxcar Joe' isn't exactly a unique name," I reminded him. "And you didn't even know his title."

"He has a title!?" Jimmy demanded.

"The Magic Hobo," I replied. "Which, you know… Got me interested, because I could use some advice on that. Both the magic part, and the hobo part," I reminded him.

"Oooooh," he said, easing back on the gas finally. "Yeah, in that case, it sounds like another guy. My Boxcar Joe is probably from Mars or something. Not another dimension," he frowned. "Unless..."

"Well, easy way to check," I suggested, gesturing back in the direction he'd originally been tugging me.

"Right!" he agreed, then quickly started back down the trail.

Unfortunately, it turned out 'Boxcar Joe' was also out for the season, though he'd left his couch in the care of 'Ms. Sally' to look after, and said he might be back when 'bean season' rolled around.

Sally was nice at least. Well at first, until Jimmy started gushing about my magic.

Then things got a bit complicated.
 
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Huh. Another one starting out in DC - except this one has even less practical starting power than the first.

Loving the street-tier start. So very, very street-tier.

is this pure Cantrip CYOA or part of the larger Company universe?

Oh, and you didn't threadmark part 5.
 
Huh. Another one starting out in DC - except this one has even less practical starting power than the first.

Loving the street-tier start. So very, very street-tier.

is this pure Cantrip CYOA or part of the larger Company universe?

Oh, and you didn't threadmark part 5.
Pure CYOA, only potential crossover elements are canon ones to DC, and maybe some expy/imports brought in from another setting. Even then they'll likely be explicitly other dimensional immigrants (or visitors).

And fixed!
 
Chapter 2: Avoiding the Inquisition Can be Tricky Though. Part 1
Chapter 2: Avoiding the Inquisition Can be Tricky Though

Part 1

"Out you monster! Out, OUT!" 'Kindly old Ms Sally' roared out as she swung her frying pan dangerously in my direction.

As a fun tidbit. I'd once heard that blacksmiths used to test how solid a frying pan was, by cracking an animal skull with it. And Ms Sally's frying pan looked very vintage.

"I'm going, I'm going!" I said, backing up and out of the train car as fast as I could. Which was apparently not fast enough for the old woman.

Things had started well enough. The older woman had been surprisingly kind and welcoming when Jimmy first introduced us, even offering to show me how to cook something over an open fire.

Unfortunately, they'd immediately gone downhill once Jimmy had me demonstrate why 'I didn't need to know that' skill.

"Calm down Ms Sally! Reed isn't here to hurt anyone!" Jimmy said, trying to come to my defense, while also staying out of the old woman's swinging range.

"Damned Meta! Get out! You brought a Meta to this place Jimmy!? You brought a Meta to our home!?" she scratched and took another swing as I tried to climb down from the side of the boxcar.

This time she connected, and I immediately fell out the door, crying out as something in my arm cracked.

"FUCK!" I cried out as I hit the dirt, scrambling as quick to my feet as I could on my good arm.

Did she break it? It felt numb, but I could flex my fingers- not the time.

"Out!" The old woman screamed again.

My good hand snapped open like a claw a Firebolt burning to life suspended between them, as I reared it back threateningly.

The Old woman's eyes shot wide.

"Wait wait wait!" Jimmy called out, actively diving into the doorway, blocking both of us.

"Jimmy-!" I started then stopped.

The fuck was I doing?

I let the magic die as I closed my hand instead bringing it to my winged arm, which already dealt hotter than my cantrip had burned. "I'm going! Fuck off you crazy bitch. If you chase me, you will not like what happens!" I yelled.

Which was a bluff. I was bluffing. Because fuck I did not actually want to get into that fight for all sorts of reasons.

Fuck, was my arm broken. I could flex my hand, bend my elbow. Gripping it, I pressed at it as I sped walked away.

Pain.

I hissed in hurt, but pressed further… nothing shifted. But I'd heard… maybe she put a crack into it. Hairline fracture? Fuck, I had no ID for any doctor to check-

Also, this was America. I'd actually probably be worse off going to the hospital. Who knows what they'd do to me if they knew I didn't have any money? Make me pay with a kidney? Okay, that was probably too far, but cops might be involved, and that could get very bad with my lack of a legal identity.

I checked behind me to make sure she wasn't chasing me, as I ducked to the side for cover just in case she pulled an even more lethal kind of iron.

Fuck. That was bad. I should have expected that. Really should have expected that. Of fucking course, not everyone was going to react well to the wizard thing. I mean even Frank had been kinda freaked out by it.

I exhaled sharply once, then brought my breath under control before it could get really rough.

Okay, could I fix this? Maybe? I needed some place safer to do my little Blessing ritual though. It'd help with the pain levels at least… well as long as it lasted. Probably wouldn't fix it entirely.

I let out a sharp barking laugh. I was in a world of superheroes and my first serious injury came from a little old lady with a frying pan. That was hilarious.

I took a couple more breaths then started moving again quickly. Heading… honestly I wasn't sure yet? Down the tracks for now. I couldn't stay here. This clearly wasn't going to be a good place to stay.

There was a sudden pit in my gut. Something bad. Fear? No, not fear. I was afraid. Adrenaline from my injury, but it wasn't that- My injury, maybe it wasn't that bad?

I grabbed at my arm and felt a flair of pain, testing it again. Still no shift in bone.

Fuck. Okay. Not that bad. Hairline fractures at worse, probably just bruising. I could fix that. I could heal that with what magic I had right now. I just… Needed to get some space, find a safe spot,

The pit grew. My feet stopped. Where was I going? Out into the wilderness? Bright idea that, really clever move. I'd die of exposure even faster out there, even if I was picked up by someone on a passing train, where would that get me? Nowhere. Back where I was in the best possible scenario.

And besides, I couldn't actually leave-

"Reed!" Jimmy called out from behind me.

I snapped around, fire flickered in my hand again for a moment, before vanishing again. Jimmy, right.

Jimmy, who had been running towards me, skidded to a stop, his eyes wide, "Woah woah woah! Friend! I'm your friend!" he said, waving his hands out.

"Sorry," I held up my good hand fingers wide showing I was holding nothing… Then quickly pointed it down, because that wasn't exactly non-threatening in the current circumstance. "Sorry," I repeated.

"It's fine, just… Do not fireball me!" He said, before quickly adding with a pause, "Or anyone else. No fireballs for anyone." He paused again in consideration. "Maybe Bruce Wayne, if he is walking down the dark path of his forebears."

"I'm not fireballing anyone. It's Firebolt anyway," I corrected. "And it's… Not actually that dangerous. Stops burning on impact, only a few hundred degrees. It's basically a box of infinite matches I can throw at people," I admitted lamely. "Looks impressive at least. I can 'grow' it eventually, but it's basically nothing but a bluff."

"Cool, cool cool cool," he nodded. "Well- actually kind of disappointing-" He shook his head. "That can wait for later. Your arm alright?"

"Not sure," I said, rubbing at it. "Not outright broken at least. I think I can fix it." I winced at how hot it felt. "Don't suppose you know another safe spot I could try that?" I asked him.

He opened his mouth for a moment, then closed it in consideration. "Okay, I might know a place," he said.

Well, it wasn't like I was swimming in alternative options.
 
Chapter 2 Part 2
Part 2

As we headed back into the city, I felt like I was slumping further and further to a brand new low.

I couldn't believe I threatened to firebomb an old lady. Yes, she was crazy; Yes, she hurt me; and yes, I wouldn't have done any real direct damage, but it was still the equivalent of pointing an airsoft gun at an old person. You just didn't do it. Not unless you absolutely had to.

And as arguable as it was, I hadn't actually had to do that. I'd had other options. I could have done the smart thing from the start and started running then. If I had to resort to magic, could have summoned more Mage Armor. Maybe try to throw her off with a Mirror Image or boosted my speed with Longstrider if I could get the chant out in time… But nope, I'd jumped right to fire back in the most literal way.

Which, I remind you, wouldn't have even done anything outside of giving her a heart attack from fright, or provoking her to escalate further.

Not helping my mood was my injury, which was becoming more and more noticeable. Something exasperated by how it was detectably swelling in the sleeve of my new coat-

Man, I really hoped this was minor, I could nor afford to let someone cut my arm out of my new (well used) coat. I'd burn through pretty much all of my 'paycheck' getting it, the footwear and the backpack. Magic could theoretically fix it, but Mending was one of those really fragile Cantrips. And while Prestidigitation had seemed to gradually 'stabilize' after my first aborted attempt to use it, that had just been trying to use it. I wasn't actually sure if using any of the 'unstable' cantrips would damage them or not. Much less how to actually stabilize them,

Fuck. Not only did I need to find a doctor to help look at my arm, I needed to find a witch doctor to look at the rest of me. With no money, no ID, and only one 'friend'.

It was kind of eye opening to realize that still left me in a much better position than most people out on the street. I at least had unlimited food, a source of fire, and some shelter. Compared to some, I had no right to complain.

I still was going to, though, "How much further again?" I asked, carefully gripping my bad arm. As we continued in. We'd been walking for over an hour now. Passed by three bus stops with no fare to pay any of them.

"Just a bit further," Jimmy said, seeming more and more excited.

"I don't need anywhere special. Just a semi-secure place to sit down, or even stand. The magic literally takes a minute to cast. Should fix me right up," I reminded him. Or maybe myself.

"Yeah sure, but you wanna make sure you're not interrupted right?" he asked. "Also, you're trying to get some cash, or a place to stay right?"

"Well, yeah," I agreed. "Easier to do that with two arms, I figure." I really wish adrenaline lasted longer. I'd been in much worse pain before, heck, some of my old injuries complained almost as much, but I still wasn't used to this new ache, and the worry of causing damage was far more alarming.

"Just trust me, it's almost…" he paused as we hit a corner. "Right here! There's the spot! Right down Crime Alley!"

"Crime alley," I repeated.

"Well, Park Row technically," he replied as he continued down. "But no one calls it that- look, I know it sounds bad, but this place is good! Real doctor running it and everything!"

If anything this was more concerning. "What kind of doctor?" I asked, letting a bit of space build up between us as I slowed my pace on entering 'Crime Alley'.

"The kind that takes charity cases," he responds. "I mean, don't get me wrong. The Waynes are fucking evil, but they need to mask that evil! Cover it up, so they fund a lot of places like this one," he explained enthusiastically.

"'Course" he continued. "That's also part of the scheme. Cause Doc Thompkins? She's a real sweet lady, but she fixes up gang-goons as much if not more often than normal folks. Keeps the real low lives up and breathing, and therefore upping overall crime in the city! Which drives down the market prices, enabling further Wayne takeover! And that's not all!" he began to rant.

But I wasn't hearing, because the name 'Tompkins' clinic' was… rattling something off in my head. Poking at a thought that was just out of reach. Like a train of thought that had just slipped from my mind… except I didn't remember actually thinking of anything I would have forgotten. Like it was losing a thought backwards. Failing to find-

"This is it," Jimmy said, gesturing dramatically over to…

An otherwise unmarked hole in the wall. Which really, really should be setting off alarm bells to me. I mean, on one hand, back alley doctor? Yeah, that made sense. On the other hand, back alley doctor. How much did kidneys sell for again? Even without factoring in metahuman organ trafficking.

To call the set up sketchy as fuck was kind of an understatement. Heck, it was arguably even sketchier than the job I'd done earlier that day. That could have just been legitimate business skimping on union labor costs. This however seemed a lot more risky.

And yet… I didn't feel alarmed? Or alarmed that I didn't feel alarmed? Something about the name 'Doctor Tompkins' struck a familiar chord with me. My gut told me to trust it.

I decided to do so.

"Hey, Doc Thompkins!" Jimmy said as knocked on the door. "You there? Cause I got someone you gotta meet!"

"Maybe we shouldn't mention the wizard thing this time," I suggested. Then immediately realized, no, wait, that was probably exactly why he'd brought me here.

"Wha-?" Jimmy started. "No no no, it's fine! Doctor Thompkins is cool! She's seen way weirder than you, and maybe-"

The door opened, interrupting him. "Jimmy?" An older woman wearing a white doctor's coat over a turtleneck and slacks asked.

"Hi Doc!" Jimmy said at once. "Got a new friend here with a busted arm. Also something I really think you'll wanna see!" he said, looking at me expectantly.

I looked at him for a moment, then the oddly familiar Doctor… then exhaled a swallowed sigh through my nose. In for a penny, I suppose. "Please," I asked.

The apparent Doctor raised an eyebrow at me, "Well? I have room for one more appointment tonight…. but I'm not waiting all night." She said after a moment's consideration, standing to the side in silent, but distinctly unspoken invitation.

Which… huh, was there a Vampire problem in the area? I think that had happened once or twice in Gotham, though my memory was full of holes about that.

"Thanks Doc!" Jimmy said, stepping in without hesitation.

"Thank you," I echoed following him in.
 
Chapter 2 Part 3
Part 3

Doctor Thompkins was quick to get my shirt off and arm examined. Confirming my fears that yeah, 'Ms Sally' had definitely cracked it. Though apparently 'incomplete fractures' like that were much easier to treat.

Which wasn't to say she didn't want to splint it, and I was definitely to keep off of it for the next six to eight weeks. But I was still very much 'lucky' that it wasn't an outright break.

Of course, that six to eight weeks was assuming I healed like normal. While my personal recovery rate was likely to be a lot different than that. Both because the local baseline probably blew my standards of 'decent health' out of the park, and because well.

"Well now," The Doctor said. "That certainly is something. The swelling's died down near completely. Surface bruising has retreated." She poked medically.

I winced.

"Deep bruising persists. Would you say your pain is higher or lower, before all that hootenanny?" she asked

"Definitely lower," I said. "But reducing pain is part of the Cantrip. That part of it will end once the duration wears out, or if I leave the circle."

"Don't suppose you have any notes on the details of that?" she asked. "I doubt you've got a medical review for whatever witchcraft you're working."

I snorted, "I wish."

"So, doc?" Jimmy asked. "Betcha ya never seen anything like that before!"

"Don't gamble money you don't have," Doctor Thompkins scolded. "Well, it's definitely something. But if the deep bruising is still there, I'm not sure how much good it'll have done for your actual recovery rate."

I winced again, this time from an entirely different kind of pain. "I was worried you'd say that." I rubbed lightly at the injured arm, which was now itching on a bone deep level. "I can do better than this. Both improve the magic I just used, and some other stuff. A cantrip that encourages Wellness for a few seconds Some basic potion making."

"You can make potions?" Jimmy jumped in before the Doctor could comment.

"Well, more super tea. Or super coffee. Or chicken soup. Bolsters pre-existing medical qualities," I explained. "Sorry. I'm still kind of new to this."

"He said it's like he's' got all the textbooks in his head, but he hasn't really got the skill to use 'em yet," Jimmy helpfully snitched.

I shot him a halfhearted look at that but shrugged.

"A bunch of textbooks you say?" She asked, taking a sudden closer look at my face, or rather my eye. "As in someone shoved a bunch of knowledge directly into your head?"

"More into my soul," I replied. "And it was an analogy. There's a ritual process to learning a Cantrip. It's not instant, but it can get pretty… invasive," and the version I'd gone through was particularly 'special'. That was why they needed someone like me for it. A blank slate.

"Well," The Doctor pulled away, apparently not finding any signs of what she had been looking for. "I'm not sure what I can do for that, outside of recommending a decent priest."

"That… could actually be useful," I admitted. If nothing else, knowing where I could get decent quality holy water would certainly be useful.

She snorted. "I'll check to see if I have any of his cards," she offered, walking over to her desk.

As she did I scanned over the 'clinic' a bit more. It was… decent? Everything was neat and clean, but everything was also (likely deliberately) low budget. From the chairs to the wallpaper. Heck the only real decoration was the Doc's mounted diploma. Doctor Leslie Maurin Thompkins.

Doctor… Leslie Maurin Thompkins, who ran a clinic in Crime Alley.

It was like a cork unstopped itself in my head, and suddenly all those out of reach thoughts clicked into place. Doctor Thompkins. Known associate of The Batman. A notable side character in his series. Didn't like his lifestyle because… something. Some reason maybe? Something I just.. Fuck.

I was drawing blanks again. What. What.

Okay what the fuck was that

I did know a bunch of details. Godmother of Bruce Wayne? Was that important? Well, Bruce was one of the handful of Billionaires who helped fund the Justice League in most timelines, so probably.

Okay, I'd clearly been mind-whammied, unless that was brain damage from the Cantrips? Ugh… should I mention it?

Fuck. Maybe I should try the priest first.

"Here it is," Doc Thompkins said, bringing over not a card, but a pamphlet. "Father Callahan's got a bit of history with the supernatural, and isn't quick to judge. If your problem is 'spiritual' then he might be able to help you."

"Thanks," I replied, getting back to my feet in a literal sense.

Getting back to my feet in a figurative one? Yeah, that was probably going to take a bit longer. More so with recent revelations.

"Wait, what?" Jimmy said. "That's it? Doc! Didn't you just say his healing magic is legit?" he asked Doctor Thompkins.

"Well, it certainly seems as such, if a lot more limited than I'd expect of a 'miracle cure'," The doctor said with only token hesitance.

"Thank you," I replied, taking that as high praise. Ethical medicine had some pretty high bars to clear after all.

"I'm just saying what I see," she replied. "Now if you wanted to take it to a lab, I might have a few other recommendations for you."

I winced, "No thanks." Though maybe… Could that help with the whole memory thing?

She gave a sort of half wave, in a wordless 'well, I offered'.

Jimmy however seemed annoyed by all of this. "Come on Doc! Healing magic," he gestured to me, then waved his hand out at the rest of the room. "Free clinic? Don't tell me I'm the only one who can add one plus one here!"

"Magic, regardless of how real or effective it is, is not medically certified," Doctor Thompkins said more frimley. "I'm sure your new friend means well Jimmy, but his powers are not understood. We haven't studied them, checked for any possible side effects. If he wasn't using it on himself, I wouldn't have let him do it in the first place."

"Thanks," I said dryly in response to that.

Jimmy however, seemed to react a bit more… Passionately. "That's bullshit," he argued. "The whole point of this place is to help people right? Reed here needs practice and you know his stuff's legit! We could just call it… Wholistic medicine? You know, like one of those new age crystal shops. Faith healing, whatever you call it!"

The Doctor looked almost insulted. "Crystal shops," she said, then snorted. "I suppose that this would be a more tangible result than one of those places… but that doesn't change my point."

She then pointed to my bad arm. "I need to splint that," she said, grabbing a few things out of the drawer.

As she did I let the thought roll around in my head. Well that and other things including what was wrong with my head. Which was just..

Ugh… I didn't even know where to start with that..

"Jimmy, help me hold this," Doctor Thompkins said, holding up the padding.

Despite how worked up he was, Jimmy immediately jumped into helping.

I bit back a sigh, as the pair worked to get my arm stuck into something resembling a comfortable position to heal in. Feeling a bit like a big hypocrite accepting help with one hand, while being able to help easily with the other.

Fuck it, why not? "I'm… not actually against offering magic healing," I interjected.

The Doctor gave me a look. "Now you're in about this?" she asked as she pulled the bindings of the arm brace tight.

"I mean, he's got a point?" I said with a wince. "I'm not actually principally against testing my stuff in a lab or anything either, if that'd make you feel better. I just don't wanna risk ending up being the thing, 'the specimen' being tested in a lab, if you catch my drift."

"I would never-" she started pausing as she did… Before continuing on with a sigh. "But I certainly heard of plenty who would."

She then frowned, something she clearly found distasteful crossing her mind. "It would be nice to have a more legitimate alternative to people who stubbornly insist on that sort of 'treatment'."

"I could also use the practice," I replied. "Right now my stuff is limited in what it can do, but a lot of that is because I'm new at it. Hypothetically, I should be able to do a lot more."

She narrowed her eyes, "Alright, stand up. Tell me how that hangs. Also, define 'more'."

I stood up, tried the shoulder a bit, eventually winced, but found my arm hung about right. "This should be good… Uh… For magic? Well, speed up healing a few orders of magnitude should be possible?"

"A few orders of magnitude," she asked, eyebrow raising.

"Yeah. And healing, but not metabolism," I clarified. "I could also upgrade that super-tea into actual varieties of Witches' Brew. The kind that can cure most ailments, viral, bacterial, supernatural, maybe even genetic in some cases?" I wasn't entirely positive on that.

"This would be after a few weeks or months of practice," I added quickly.

"A few weeks of practice," Doctor Thompkins stressed. "And you know that? How about side effects? Do you know anything about those?" she asked.

"Some do," I confirmed. "Mostly on me," I added after a bit of hesitation.

She frowned at me, "I'm not sure I like the word 'mostly' there."

"I mean, there's also obvious social issues," I added. "It's pretty easy for people to become 'addicted' to the convenience of magic. But that's not because of the magic itself, just what it can do. There's actually a big warning label for one specific anti-disease Cantrip that someone once used to immunize people for multiple generations. After it wore off a couple of hundred years later the entire community they were in was wiped out by disease. But that was because no one in their family's gotten sick in the last ten generations," I explained.

"Is that because of inexperience, or because of atrophy?" The Doctor pressed.

"I… Don't know?" I shrugged. "It should be the inexperience thing, but I don't have a lot of hands experience with magic yet. It should be pretty easy to test for if I work out something similar?" or maybe bugs? Bugs had faster reproductive cycles, but I think they also had them tied to seasons more? I'd need to do some research.

"What if that creates magic super-mice?" Jimmy asked from the side, seeming to consider this a serious concern.

I was about to deny the possibility of that, before considering what 'disease free' mice could actually do to the environment. "I'll… Hold off on that one until I got a proper lab set up," I added.

"Good idea," Doctor Thompkins said with a snort. "I suppose if you are going to offer 'magic' healing, you should at least do it with proper observation."

Jimmy grinned, "I knew you'd see sense Doc! See?" he said, turning to me. "I told you, Doc Thompkins is one of the good ones!"

Seemed like.

"Now!" My conspiracy obsessed friend said, his eyes manic. "How do we do this without the Waynes catching on?" he said, the seriousness of his tone making it clear that this would be the most important hurdle to climb for him.
 
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Well jimmys certainly stubborn. Hopefully he's the stubborn kind of loyal as well
Jimmy's a real fun character to write, even if he's surprisingly effort intensive to write!

Wow, he is not trying to hid his magic at all. Probably going to bite him, or do nothing because of how common of Metas in what ever DC universe this is. Anyways


I'm wandering what Coya you use. Do you mind linking it?
How much effort he puts into being magic varies based on things like 'how cold and badly I want a chance to have somewhere warmish to sleep' he is.

But yeah, after the arm incident? He's likely to be a fair bit more cautious again.

as for the CYOA? Cantrip CYOA
 
Chapter 2 Part 4
Part 4

With my arm taped up, it was time to return to house hunting. Now with the added caveats of being somewhere accessible with a bad arm, and ideally, somewhere close enough the commute to Doctor Thompkins wouldn't take me half the day.

Luckily, there was actually a near perfect location almost right next door.

Downside. It was next door. Meaning, in the middle of Crime Alley. So… I'd have to be careful of stray bullets and accidentally walking into private meetings I wasn't invited to.

However, as I'd noted so frequently, it was almost becoming a mantra…. It wasn't like I had a lot of better options.

So the old boarded up movie theater it was.

"It's not so bad," I muttered as I ducked a cobweb, moving deeper through the fairly wide, fairly tall hallway to one of the screening rooms. A Color Ray shooting out from my hand as an improvised, short ranged flashlight.

Very short. The beam wasn't weak; well, not as strong as some flashlights I'd used in the past, but more than enough to easily read by. The only issue was that it just… Cut off suddenly, after about ten feet.

Which was frankly even weirder looking than you'd expect of a magic beam of multi-colored light shooting from someone's hands. There was a reason I'd used Fire Bolt for light earlier, and it wasn't just the limited range.

Unfortunately, bringing fire of any kind inside here seemed… unwise

I coughed for the fifth time since I'd gotten inside. "Dusty as fuck. Drafty as hell. But everything looks pretty solid. Entrances were all secure," I muttered in appraisal.

It was a pretty good spot altogether. Not readily accessible from the outside. There were some gaps of course. Enough for me to have Blinked my way in like I had back at the gate, and to provide some ventilation, but the roof seemed water tight, and the building, while empty and dusty as hell, was overall surprisingly intact. Hell, structurally, the place looked borderline untouched.

Which… Was kind of a warning sign, given, you know, Crime Alley. But maybe I was overestimating the danger of the area? Doctor Thompkins felt comfortable running a clinic right beside this place after all. Heck, that very proximity might be what had shielded it from attention.

Though that raised the risk and question of if using this building might be violating some sort of local taboo…

"Not like I've got a ton of other options," I said, repeating words that were dangerously close to becoming a mantra as I looked over at some leftover movie Posters. Saving Private Ryan. The Parent Trap. The Mask of Zorro, and interestingly 'Firebrand', which also seemed to be a war documentary, but focused on a specific superhero.

Exploring a bit further, I found… honestly, not a lot else worth interest. Hell, not only was the building empty of any equipment, they'd cleared out most of the furniture, including the seats in all but two sections of the viewing rooms (which were cold as balls). Just more webs, spiders, and dust. Not even signs of other squatters.

Which… while off putting? Was technically perfect. And while I couldn't shake the feeling like I might be standing in a minefield, it was, at least, a quiet minefield, where I could get some rest.

After popping out, and letting Jimmy know I'd found somewhere suitable, I set about making myself at home. Or at least as much as I had the energy to. Picking out a room that wasn't quite as cold as some of the others, and was near, but not in direct view of one of the boarded up doors, so I could make a quick escape, or hear someone breaking in.

Thank goodness for magic. Prestidigitation might be off the table, but I still had some options. Scour had all but no range, and didn't currently do much more than the equivalent of rubbing something over something hard with steel wool. Something that made is a surprisingly good as an improvised cleaning tool, as long as I was careful. Acid Splash likewise, if with far more caution. And Mage Armor provided temporary cleaning gear.

I'd been a bit tempted to use my Pocket as a sort of temporary garbage to stuff dust into, but was worried I'd never be able to clean it out again.

But yeah, while attack magic wasn't the best cleaning tool, it helped me do the job decently enough. Or at least helped me clear most of the cobwebs anyway. I was a little worried about rats as I set out my sleeping bag, but didn't see a lot of droppings, and frankly, at this point I was committed anyway. So I just bit the bullet, packed in, and tried to get to sleep, eventually succeeding.

Needless to say, it was not the best night's rest I'd ever had by a significant margin… But I'd also really, really needed it. Waking up sometime around noon, stiff, sore, and vaguely disappointed that this whole mess wasn't some sort of dream, and I was still stuck in Gotham, with no money and a fairly newly broken arm.

Also hungry, but that's what Goodberry was for. Went with Cherry this time around.

I also needed to use the bathroom, but luckily they hadn't actually taken the toilets. And while the water was off, I could manually fill the reservoir as long as I could get the water, and well… Gotham always seemed to be raining.

So… I had a home. Or something close to it. Shelter for the moment. I had all the food I needed. Clothing was going to be an issue though, and getting money to add and replace what I had was going to be hard with the bad arm. Which meant my new priority was focused on either fixing that, or finding work I could do one handed.

Luckily, I could do both by refining my currently highly limited healing magic into something a bit more potent. Which meant it was time to get down to training.

For some reason, I actually found myself smiling at that. The first real grin that had crossed my face since I first Blinked my way into the middle of that road.

"It's Wizard Time, Bitches," I said, as I started the first, of what would be many repetitions of the basic Blessing Cantrip.

It was time to see how Gotham would react so someone injecting a little bit of positive energy into her magisphere.
 
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Usually it takes weeks of holy water rain or binding a angel to the city to make a dent in the negative energy in fan-fictions
 
Starting Cantrip List

Bolded Cantrips are Practiced/Invested

Acid Splash Size[T0] Intensity[T0] Control[T0] Range[T0]
Alarm Focus[T0] Trigger[T0] Result[T0] Duration[T0]
Alignment Method[T0] Range[T0] Return[T0] Detail[T0]
Alter Object Size[T0] Method[T0] Target[T0] Duration[T0]
Animal Aspect Mrthod[T0] Totem[T0] Aspect[T0] Duration[T0]
Animal Friend Size[T0] Disposition[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]
Arcane Eye Method[T0] Duration[T0] Type[T0] Range[T0]
Banish Method[T0] Effect[T0] Range[T0] Target[T0]
Bleed Method[T0] Damage[T0] Target[T0] Duration[T0]
Blessing Method[T0] Aura[T0] Effect[T0] Area[T0]
Blink Method[T0] Target[T0] Type[T0] Range[T3]
Blood Money Method[T0] Balance[T0] Sacrifice[T0] Result[T0]
Charm Method[T0] Intensity[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]
Circle Method[T0] Effect[T0] Range[T0] Penalty[T0]
Cloudshape Target[T0] Force[T0] Native[T0] Duration[T0]
Cog Source[T0] Ability[T0] Size[T0] Duration[T0]
Color Ray Motion[T0] Effect[T0] Intensity[T0] Range[T0]
Commune Method[T0] Return[T0] Range[T0] Target[T0]
Counterspell Method[T0] Target[T0] Intensity[T0] Range[T2]
Crystal Shot Shape[T0] Effect[T0] Nature[T0] Range[T0]
Dancing Lights Number[T0] Control[T0] Effect[T0] Range[T0]
Daze Power[T0] Effect[T0] Connection[T0] Duration[T0]
Detection Intensity[T0] Type[T0] Senses[T0] Range[T0]
Disguise Self Type[T0] Mentality[T0] Target[T0] Duration[T0]
Divination Clarity[T0] Range[T0] Intensity[T0] Effect[T0]
Druidcraft Intensity[T0] Effect[T0] Range[T0] Duration[T0]
Eldritch Blast Shape[T0] Effect[T0] Power[T0] Range[T0]
Facsimile Effect[T0] Source[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]
Faerie Fire Shape[T0] Source[T0] Nature[T0] Duration[T0]
Featherfall Method[T0] Effect[T0] Target[T0] Duration[T0]
Fire Bolt Shape[T0] Nature[T0] Color[T0] Range[T3]
Fist Style[T0] Effect[T0] Power[T0] Type[T0]
Fog Density[T0] Effect[T0] Substance[T0] Range[T0]
Forcedisk Size[T0] Power[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]
Gate Method[T0] Range[T0] Roughness[T0] Duration[T0]
Ghost Words Method[T0] Attribute[T0] Target[T0] Duration[T0]
Glow Method[T0] Range[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]
Goodberry Method[T0] Size[T0] Number[T0] Effect[T0]
Grease Range[T0] Control[T0] Effect[T0] Duration[T0]
Guardian Substance[T0] Target[T0] Summon[T0] Duration[T0]
Guidance Method[T0] Task[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]
Gust Intensity[T0] Effect[T0] Control[T0] Duration[T0]
Haste/Slow Effect[T0] Target[T0] Intensity[T0] Duration[T0]
Healing Hands Method[T0] Intensity[T0] Shape[T0] Duration[T0]
Heroism Target[T0] Aura[T0] Effect[T0] Duration[T0]
Hideaway Entrance[T0] Contents[T0] Size[T0] Duration[T2]
Infestation Density[T0] Range[T0] Effect[T0] Duration[T0]
Investigate Method[T0] Intensity[T0] Target[T0] Source[T0]
Jinx Intensity[T0] Range[T0] Target[T0] Duration[T0]
Jolt Intensity[T0] Range[T0] Nature[T0] Method[T0]
Knock Target[T0] Intensity[T0] Sound[T0] Access[T0]
Life Bubble Size[T0] Effect[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]
Lifelink Target[T0] Effect[T0] Nature[T0] Duration[T0]
Lock Intensity[T0] Exception[T0] Effect[T0] Duration[T0]
Longstrider Method[T0] Terrain[T0] Boost[T0] Duration[T0]
Lullaby Range[T0] Effect[T0] Intensity[T0] Target[T0]
Mage Armor Shape[T0] Material[T0] Structure[T0] Duration[T2]
Mage Hand Number[T0] Power[T0] Nature[T0] Range[T0]
Magic Missile Number[T0] Effect[T0] Power[T0] Range[T0]
Magic Weapon Shape[T0] Duration[T0] Type[T0] Effect[T0]
Mark Method[T0] Duration[T0] Appearance[T0] Effect[T0]
Mask Depth[T0] Duration[T0] Nature[T0] Warning[T0]
Mending Time[T0] Size[T0] Intensity[T0] Range[T0]
Message Range[T0] Impact[T0] Effect[T0] Duration[T0]
Minor Illusion Size[T0] Senses[T0] Effect[T0] Duration[T0]
Mirror Image Quantity[T0] Feedback[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]
Mold Earth Range[T0] Speed[T0] Substance[T0] Control[T0]
Muffle Method[T0] Sounds[T0] Strength[T0] Area[T0]
Murk Thickness[T0] Effect[T0] Contents[T0] Range[T0]
Navigate Target[T0] Effect[T0] Range[T0] Travel Time[T0]
Pact Intensity[T0] Number[T0] Effect[T0] Duration[T0]
Peacebond Method[T0] Effect[T0] Strength[T0] Duration[T0]
Penumbra Shape[T0] Effect[T0] Substance[T0] Stealth[T0]
Phantom Steed Source[T0] Travel[T0] Capacity[T0] Duration[T0]
Pocket Type[T0] Organization[T0] Size[T0] Effect[T0]
Prestidigitation Size[T0] Number[T0] Intensity[T0] Duration[T0]
Purify Time[T0] Substance[T0] Size[T0] Effect[T0]
Raise Dead Method[T0] Intellect[T0] Number[T0] Type[T0]
Ray Of Frost Range[T0] Intensity[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]
Recollect Method[T0] Result[T0] Strength[T0] Memory[T0]
Rune Method[T0] Strength[T0] Type[T0] Effect[T0]
Scholar's Touch Method[T0] Result[T0] Speed[T0] Target[T0]
Scour Shape[T0] Target[T0] Intensity[T0] Range[T0]
Scribe Method[T0] Effect[T0] Size[T0] Source[T0]
Seance Method[T0] Range[T0] Bond[T0] Type[T0]
Shape Water Range[T0] Speed[T0] Substance[T0] Effect[T0]
Spirit Bow Type[T0] Substance[T0] Duration[T0] Shape[T0]
Stabilize Method[T0] Death[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]
Thunderclap Power[T0] Type[T0] Control[T0] Range[T0]
Tongues Depth[T0] Knowledge[T0] Target[T0] Duration[T3]
Toughness Method[T0] Essence[T0] Target[T0] Duration[T0]
True Strike Method[T0] Feedback[T0] Effect[T0] Target[T0]
Unseen Servant Number[T0] Intellect[T0] Shape[T0] Duration[T0]
Upgrade Method[T0] Duration[T0] Intensity[T0] Effect[T0]
Vicious Mockery Target[T0] Impact[T0] Duration[T0] Knowledge[T0]
Vigor Method[T0] Target[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]
Warding Gesture Method[T0] Esoteric[T0] Physical[T0] Duration[T0]
Web Range[T0] Control[T0] Shape[T0] Substance[T0]
Wellness Method[T0] Effect[T0] Intensity[T0] Duration[T0]
Witch's Brew Method[T0] Essense[T0] Target[T0] Potency[T0]

Blessing
Method[T0] Aura[T0] Effect[T0] Area[T0]

Blood Money
Method[T0] Balance[T0] Sacrifice[T0] Result[T0]

Fist
Style[T0] Effect[T0] Power[T0] Type[T0]

Goodberry
Method[T0] Size[T0] Number[T0] Effect[T0]

Knock
Knock Target[T0] Intensity[T0] Sound[T0] Access[T0]

Muffle
Method[T0] Sounds[T0] Strength[T0] Area[T0]

Pocket
Type[T0] Organization[T0] Size[T0] Effect[T0]

Raise Dead
Method[T0] Intellect[T0] Number[T0] Type[T0]

Rune
Method[T0] Strength[T0] Type[T0] Effect[T0]

Witch's Brew
Method[T0] Essense[T0] Target[T0] Potency[T0]

Alarm
Focus[T0] Trigger[T0] Result[T0] Duration[T0]

Animal Aspect
Method[T0] Totem[T0] Aspect[T0] Duration[T0]

Bleed
Method[T0] Damage[T0] Target[T0] Duration[T0]

Daze
Power[T0] Effect[T0] Connection[T0] Duration[T0]

Forcedisk
Size[T0] Power[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]

Guardian
Substance[T0] Target[T0] Summon[T0] Duration[T0]

Hideaway
Entrance[T0] Contents[T0] Size[T0] Duration[T2]


Longstrider
Method[T0] Terrain[T0] Boost[T0] Duration[T0]

Mage Armor
Shape[T0] Material[T0] Structure[T0] Duration[T2]


Mark
Method[T0] Duration[T0] Appearance[T0] Effect[T0]

Mirror Image
Quantity[T0] Feedback[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]

Pact
Intensity[T0] Number[T0] Effect[T0] Duration[T0]

Peacebond
Method[T0] Effect[T0] Strength[T0] Duration[T0]

Phantom Steed
Source[T0] Travel[T0] Capacity[T0] Duration[T0]

Tongues
Depth[T0] Knowledge[T0] Target[T0] Duration[T3]


Upgrade
Method[T0] Duration[T0] Intensity[T0] Effect[T0]

Vicious Mockery
Target[T0] Impact[T0] Duration[T0] Knowledge[T0]

Vigor
Method[T0] Target[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]

Warding Gesture
Method[T0] Esoteric[T0] Physical[T0] Duration[T0]

Wellness
Method[T0] Effect[T0] Intensity[T0] Duration[T0]

Acid Splash
Size[T0] Intensity[T0] Control[T0] Range[T0]

Alignment
Method[T0] Range[T0] Return[T0] Detail[T0]

Blink
Method[T0] Target[T0] Type[T0] Range[T3]


Circle
Method[T0] Effect[T0] Range[T0] Penalty[T0]

Color Ray
Motion[T0] Effect[T0] Intensity[T0] Range[T0]

Commune
Method[T0] Return[T0] Range[T0] Target[T0]

Counterspell
Method[T0] Target[T0] Intensity[T0] Range[T2]


Crystal Shot
Shape[T0] Effect[T0] Nature[T0] Range[T0]

Eldritch Blast
Shape[T0] Effect[T0] Power[T0] Range[T0]

Fire Bolt
Shape[T0] Nature[T0] Color[T0] Range[T3]


Fog
Density[T0] Effect[T0] Substance[T0] Range[T0]

Glow
Method[T0] Range[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]

Grease
Range[T0] Control[T0] Effect[T0] Duration[T0]

Jinx
Intensity[T0] Range[T0] Target[T0] Duration[T0]

Jolt
Intensity[T0] Range[T0] Nature[T0] Method[T0]

Magic Missile
Number[T0] Effect[T0] Power[T0] Range[T0]

Murk
Thickness[T0] Effect[T0] Contents[T0] Range[T0]

Ray Of Frost
Range[T0] Intensity[T0] Type[T0] Duration[T0]

Scour
Shape[T0] Target[T0] Intensity[T0] Range[T0]

Thunderclap
Power[T0] Type[T0] Control[T0] Range[T0]

Web
Range[T0] Control[T0] Shape[T0] Substance[T0]
 
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thanks for the chapter and for writing.
You're welcome! More to come!

Aw yeah! Looking forward to seeing where this goes.
Hope you enjoy the ride getting there as well!

Hahahahahhahahahaha Jimmy is cold
Little bit. He doesn't mean any harm mind you, but while his tact levels are better than say... Garry the Prophet. They aren't exactly up to the average Gothamites, which is not exactly a high bar to clear.

Wizard has str as dump stat and 1d4 HP now canon and justified.
Not D&D, but... basically yes.

I'm a little annoyed my 'Not D&D' Tag was rejected. I have a feeling I'm going to be mentioning that to a lot of people.

----[CHAPTER 2 PART 4 NOISES]----​

Usually it takes weeks of holy water rain or binding a angel to the city to make a dent in the negative energy in fan-fictions
I mean he said he'd see. Not that he expected to make a particularly noticeable difference.

Are there any cantrips that he didn't take?
Nope! And that was actually for story related reasons. Ones that'll come up eventually once he either has chance to talk shop with another magic user, or gets to the level he can finally start 'sharing' some of the 'wealth'.
 
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