Episode: 2.7

--- Molly ---

“I don’t like this…”

Graves looked at her as if she was crazy, and coming from the guy who had danced, (not walked, but danced) the entire way to the random building they were standing on, she was more than a little insulted, and embarrassed (but I can live with that part.)

“You’re learning magic, what the hell isn’t there to like?” Graves blinked, before grinning, “Unless you regret not burning that couch, but don’t worry luv, we can still burn it with hellfire when we get home.”

“Can you stop with the furniture thing, it’s not that bad!” (My Mom picked that stuff!)

Graves rolled his eyes before groaning out the word, “Fine” for a full two minutes, something she might find impressive if it (wasn’t so annoying…)

“If it’s not the furniture, then what is the problem?”

Her eyes dashed left and right, as she hugged herself for comfort. “I don’t feel comfortable doing this out in the open.”

“Which is why we’re on a rooftop.”

“In the middle of the worst neighborhood in the city, why’d we have to come here?”

“So, people are less likely to connect ‘you who practices magic’, to ‘you who lives in a nice neighborhood’ if we do get caught.” Graves explained patiently, “Trust me, I did this kind of thing all the time during prohibition.”

(Your delusions do not fill me with confidence…)

“Look, if you’re that worried about being caught,” Graves began digging in his pockets, before pulling out various bits and pieces, “No. No. Wait, why do I even have that? No. No… Wait.” Graves pulled a ring out and held it to the sun, before smiling, “Yes!”

“What’s that?”

“At the moment, a four-point Spell Engine capable of creating a self-sustaining nuclear fission in an airless/matter-less vacuum, while being crammed inside of ring typically built to hold a singular Spell-Circuit.” Graves explained while messing with said ring.

It took her a moment to decipher what he’d said, though once she caught several keywords, namely, ‘nuclear fission’ she couldn’t help but scream.

“It does what?!”

“I know, insane right?” Graves grinned in a manic fashion as he tinkered with the magical fission reactor, “Trick was using the singular circuit to create a graft a meta-circuit array onto a theoretical space. From there I used the first virtual circuit to create a basic air conjuration, broken down to a few oxygen atoms, since the lower molecular weight is more energy efficient. Then came a simple splitting charm to split the atoms, normally it wouldn’t work for a number of reasons, except in this case I rigged the charm to go off at the exact location and moment the atoms would spawn, thus triggering the reaction. Oh, and lastly I added a modern power conversion spell to redirect the energy back into the engine to theoretically create a near infinite loop. Best part though, since the oxygen atoms were conjured, the broke down into ambient magic after the fission process, thus removing any potential waste from the reaction.”

Graves smirked, “Figuring all of that out, was good way to kill two or three years.”

On the one hand, even the smallest of doubts she had about Graves being a competent magic user, was thoroughly and brutally killed in a fairly gory fashion.

On the other hand, she was now scared shitless of both a piece of jewelry and the guy who made said jewelry.

“And… done.”

“D-doing w-what?” she squeaked, and she had no shame admitting that, given how she was less than two meters from a fission reactor.

“Clearing the ring and re-enchanting it.” He answered tossing her the ring.

She lunged to catch the ring, terrified of what would happen if a magical fission reactor hit the ground.

“You, you c-cleared it?” she asked warily, her eyes dashing between Graves and the ring.

“Yeah, I mean when are you ever going to need a perpetual fission reaction?” Graves asked as if it were obvious, “I only made the thing because I was bored in prison.”

His first statement calmed her down.

His second statement however… freaked her the fuck out.

(Who the hell makes a fission reactor out of boredom?!)

“Anyway, once the ring was clear I recreated that dressing spell I used yesterday and slipped a modified version into the ring, should help you with this whole ‘secret identity’ thing you’re going for.” Graves explained with a shrug, “Go ahead and give it a try.”

She stared at him and then at the former fission reactor, before eventually slipping the ring on her left middle finger, opposite of the Scanning ring on her right.

“Aren’t you… going to… use it?” Graves questioned, after a moment of her just staring at the (death trap) on her hand.

(Hell no.)

Apparently slipping a former fission reactor onto her hand, was the limit of her gratitude to him, because her every instinct was screaming not to trigger whatever spell was hidden in the ring.

(Good to know, I’m not a mindless follower.)

Eventually Graves got tired of waiting, and with a roll of his eyes pointed a finger at the ring, before shooting some ball of violet light at it.

There was flash of light, as a chill ran up her spine.

When the light died down, she was once more in the black fedora and vest she’d worn during the finale of Graves musical episode, the only difference being that this time she felt something clinging to her face.

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(A mask?)

“A couple friends of mine have a set of mask fetishes, so I figured if you’re trying to hide your identity they should help.” Graves explained conjuring a full body mirror so she could give the outfit a once over.

And once more she found she rather liked the outfit, the fedora going especially well with the black vest and silver stitching, and with the black pants and white blouse the whole thing had a mystic mobster sort of feel to it.

That said, she couldn’t help but feel that when it came to the white half-skull mask that covered all but her lower jaw and eyes…

“Isn’t this a bit… villainous?”

Graves blinked, “In contrast to?”

“Well, I um, I, I wanted to use my powers to help people.” She admitted, more than a little embarrassed by the fact that one of her first thoughts after realizing she had powers, was to become a hero like her five-year old self had wanted.

“A fine goal, I’ll add a bunch of healing tricks to your curriculum.” Graves encouraged.

“Right, um, what I mean is…” Gah! She could just feel her cheeks heating up, beneath the mask, “I want to, I want to be a M-Mask!”

(And now he’s going to laugh at me.)

She closed her eyes, expecting the backlash, as she remembered the various students making fun of a weak Deviant who couldn’t even become a low-ranking Mask.

After a moment, without any reaction she risked opening her eyes as a bit of hope filled her.

(Maybe, maybe he understands? I mean, he did say helping people was a fine goal…)

“A mask?” Graves tilted his head, “You’re… already wearing one, aren’t you?”

She blinked, before realizing he was misunderstanding her.

(I guess it is more of a slang term than anything else…)

“No, not a mask like that, I mean like a, um, a hero…” she managed to stutter out, as her nerves began to build back up.

“A… hero?” Graves asked cautiously.

“Yeah…” she admitted nervously.

It didn’t even take her a moment to realize there was a certain tension to Graves after that confirmation.

“That’s… nice…” Graves managed to work through a tense smile.

“You… you don’t think I can be a hero…?”

That revelation… hurt.

Graves glanced at her before wincing.

“Look, I do think you can help people, who need help.” He told her, before running a hand down his face, “But being a hero? I’m going to be honest; I don’t think you have the mentality for that.”

Apparently, it was her turn to wince.

Given what he’d seen of her, of her suicide attempt, her nervousness, and everything else… (I can’t really blame him.)

(I really am worthless, aren’t I?)

Graves watched her for a moment before giving a resigned sigh.

“Fine…” Graves ground out, though he didn’t sound particularly happy about it, “If you want to be a ‘hero’, I’ll do what I can to help you be one… But I want you to promise, that if at any point you start thinking being a ‘hero’ isn’t for you, you’ll reconsider it, and you won’t just stick with that life, out of some stupid moral obligation… I put enough effort into saving your life that I don’t want you to just throw it away.”

She looked up at him, and saw the frustrated, but resigned look he was wearing, and she couldn’t help but feel a guilty sort of hope bubbling up in her chest once more.

“I, I promise.” She agreed without a second thought, especially since he was the first person to actually give her a chance to accomplish something in a very long time.

“Alright… I’ll hold you to that.” He warned her.

The air between them was tense, and it left her feeling guilty, like she’d done something wrong, and yet… she couldn’t place what it was she did wrong.

“So… Magic…” Graves began, finally breaking the silence as he tried to work through whatever tension had built between them with that last conversation, “First, power the ring and think or cast ‘Open: Grimoire, all.’”

She did as he said, and as expected a new screen appeared.

> Grimoire

>

> Star lit, Night-light (F+)

“You should have one thing written, ‘Star lit, Night-Light’, right?”

She nodded, trying unable to speak with his clearly annoyed tone.

“Good. Now click or focus on it.”

> Spell: Star lit, Night-light

>

> Spell Title(s): The Child’s Night Light

>

> Difficulty: F

>

> Mastery: D+

>

> Cost: E

>

> Attribute: None

>

> Description: A simple spell commonly used by mystic parents to help children scared of the dark, by creating a magic based night light in the appearance of fireflies or small stars. Due to its simplicity, and positive memories, this spell is a common first spell for kids and newly awakened magic users.

She couldn’t help but smile at the spell’s description. The idea of children staring in awe at the little stars, as the light chased away their fears… it was just too adorable not to smile.

“Okay, so the database explains things pretty decently as far as most spells go.” Graves informed her, before rolling his eyes, “I’m sure you can figure out the basics as far as these rankings go?”

She bit her lip to keep quiet, only to realize a moment later, that while his tone was a little harsh, he wasn’t asking her a rhetorical question. “The lower the difficulty the better, higher mastery is better and…” she swallowed, a more than a little unsure, “A lower Cost is less MP used?”

“Alright, yeah…” Graves sighed in resignation.

(‘You’re such a disappointment…’)

She shook away that thought.

(He didn’t say that.)

(But he thought it.)

“This is going to be a little complicated but you’re a big kid so…” Graves shrugged, “The actual or MP cost of a spell is a sort of multiplication between a lack of mastery and spell cost. The general rule is that F- to A+ can be represented by the numbers one to nineteen. For mastery you deduct the number from about twenty-one to about fifty, depending on spell difficulty. You then multiply that number by the spell cost, and you’ll have the MP cost.”

She thought about it for a moment. “So… MP cost = (Difficulty - Mastery) * Cost?”

“Yeah,” Graves nodded, with a small smirk, “Though I should point out that the actual mathematical formula for spell cost is a little more complicated than that, thanks to things like ambient magic, spell synchronization, and a bunch of other stuff we’ll cover once you have the basics down.”

She blinked. “There’s an actual formula for magic?”

“Several, depending on which aspect and school of magic you’re talking about, but the spell cost one has been fairly generalized across the board.”

(Math can explain Magic!)

Her inner nerd couldn’t help but grin in excitement.

“Alright, so moving on…” Graves tapped his chin for a moment, before asking, “What’s your Mastery for the Night-light at?”

She glanced at her Grimoire screen, “D+”

Graves tilted his head from one side to the other, before running a hand down his face.

“Okay, do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

“Erm… What do you mean?”

“Easy way, is I teach you magic slow and steady, the way you would a child just getting into magic, slowly introducing you to things as time goes on. Hard way, I essentially drag you into the deep end of magic and teach you how not to drown.”

“Shouldn’t you… teach the regular way?” she asked, because while she didn’t want him to soft ball her, she also didn’t like the way he phrased ‘the hard way’.

Graves shook his head before sighing, “The easy way was designed for kids, and even if I accelerate to match your age’s learning rate, it’ll still take you a year or two to catch up to someone who was raised around magic, whereas the hard way ‘ll get you there in a few months.”

Graves gave her look, “Normally I’d tell you to take the easy way, but at the same time you said you wanted to be a ‘hero’, right?”

She nodded.

“Then that means if you see someone in trouble you’re going to want to try and help them, regardless of your ability to do so.” Graves glared at her, and she just knew doing that would end badly for her, “With the easy way it’ll be a year before I’m comfortable letting you out on your own, and while the hard way is, well, hard, but you’ll be ready to go out on your own in a month, maybe two if I have to lighten the work load a bit.”

She thought about it.

(The easy way is the way people are supposed to learn… but the hard way, will teach me faster… let me help people sooner…)

She remembered why she wanted to help people…

(She fought down tears as she clutched her bruising stomach, desperately wishing someone, anyone would stop the girls from hitting her again.)

(No one did.)

…because no one would help her.

“So, what’ll it be?”

She steeled herself before giving him as determined of a glare as she could manage.

“I want to help people as soon as I can.”

Graves winced, “Well, don’t go saying I didn’t warn you…”