>(2/2)

A sigh fuzzes through your burner's speakers.

"...Everything is already ready for you over here."

You let out a pleased hum.

"That's what I like to hear."

Pressing down on the red hang-up button, you put a hand on Alex's blanket wrapped shoulder and shake her as you slip your burner back into your pocket.

The blond grumbles and rolls around in her blanket cocoon to face you.

"...Why did you turn the sun on and wake me up? I thought we were going to save the Thank You sex for later."

Raising an eyebrow, you stand up and scoop up the bundled-up serial killer.

"I didn't say anything about sex and think you shouldn't be in the mood after what you told me last night."

Alex groans.

"...Sex makes me feel better."

You blink as you hop down in front of the warehouse gate.

Inputing the door code, you click on the open gate button, walk in, shut the gate, make your way to the ladders, and hop up on to the second floor.

Jesús is the only one in your crew besides you awake and alert.

Waving, you set Alex down on the bed futons.

Talks are well and good but you've got other places to be.

>[ ] Crank open a window, hop out, and make your way to Strange's. Magic lessons are always good.
>[ ] Pop open a window, hop out, and get to the Vega's. Breakfast is important.
>[ ] Stroll over, sit down, and chat with Jesús. You are his lord and savior.
>[ ] Open a window, hop out, and hop to Zebra Daddy's. He owes you a report.
>[ ] Write In

>First Thread:
https://archived.moe/qst/thread/2424210/#2424210

>Previous Thread(s):
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=A%20New%20Mutant%20Quest

>Character Sheet:
https://pastebin.com/r4mTphVV

>>3314698
>hop over to Vega’s grab some breakfast
When was the last time we ate even
>then hop over to Strange’s

Voting closed; writing

>[X] Pop open a window, hop out, and get to the Vega's. Breakfast is important.
>[X] Hop over to Strange's.

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day and you didn't have dinner last night. You may have called Strange but the man can wait. Learning is harder when you're on an empty stomach. Maybe you can eat that sandwich if he still has it.

You walk over to one of the windows, open it, and hop out, closing it before you fully fall down.

Another hop takes you back to the roof of the warehouse

Turning in the direction of the Vega's butcher shop, you take off towards it.

A few seconds of leisure hopping is all the time it takes for you to land on the shop's roof.

Swiping up the roof key, you back-flip over the edge down in front of the butcher shop's entrance.

You open the door and step inside.

Eight minutes of raw meat chomping, slurping, and ravaging, you step out and throw the key back up on the roof before you back-flip back on to it.

Focusing on Manhattan's direction, you take off into the early morning sky.

It takes you nine minutes to cut through Hunts Point, Port Morris, and Mott Haven into Manhattan and through it to the Sanctum Sanctorum.

The entrance flies open to reveal Wong in his monk robe as you land right in front of it.

You follow the man through the magical building to the atrium where you first studied under the Sorcerer Supreme.

Doctor Strange himself sits at the center, basking in the early morning sunlight as books float around him.

"Good, you're here." He rises. "What do you want to learn today, apprentice Kojo?"

A hum rumbles in your throat.

>[ ] "You said something about Thor and Loki when we were on the phone...Are they actual gods?"
>[ ] "Show me how to draw powers from the gods, I want to see what they've got to offer."
>[ ] "Let's go over constant spells again, it seems more important long term-wise."
>[ ] "Imbuing things with magic again, I feel like I'm getting close."
>[ ] "Let's go over sigils again, they're incredibly versatile."
>[ ] "Teleportation, let's continue where we left off."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3315723
>"Imbuing things with magic again, I feel like I'm getting close."
>"You said something about Thor and Loki when we were on the phone...Are they actual gods?"

>>3315723
this >>3315778

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Imbuing things with magic again, I feel like I'm getting close."
>[X] "You said something about Thor and Loki when we were on the phone...Are they actual gods?"

Numerous staffs have been atomized out of existence thanks to you. It would dishonor their sacrifice if you just moved on to other magics. When you have fully mastered sorcery, you will construct your own staffs in honor of those that have been destroyed.

Also, you're curious about the two Norse 'gods' in this world.

"Imbuing things with magic again, I feel like I'm getting close."

One of the books floating around the sitting sorcerer shoots off towards you.

Catching the tome, you flip it open but continue to stare at the magic man.

"You said something about Thor and Loki when we were on the phone...Are they actual gods?"

Strange shakes his head.

"Powerful beings, yes; gods, no. They are the gods in the Norse mythology but they are not actual gods. I found it strange and confusing at first but history is filled with powerful humans or aliens being mistaken for gods. In Thor and Loki's case, they're simply powerful aliens of sorts with some having knowledge of sorcery."

A deep hum rumbles in your throat.

False gods.

"False gods."

The sorcerer blinks.

"...You could say that, yes."

Blinking back, you look down and focus on the magic tome.

Yet another three hours of reading, staff atomizing and enchanting, magic theory analyzing, and casual shit talking go by.

Lighting your latest staff aflame with literal fire power, you let out a sigh.

"There are only so many times you can make something burst into flames without actually burning away before it becomes boring."

Strange nods as he observes your handiwork for the umpteenth time.

"I remember how exciting it was learning how to conjure portals before I was stuck on Mount Everest. Now, they're commonplace and a reminder of a time I almost froze to death. Cannot fault my master as I did not die and did learn how to make portals but I can never find portals fun on their own again."

You raise an eyebrow at the magic man.

That's something you did not know before.

>[ ] "Don't let your personal magic issues get in the way of my studies, 'master' Strange."
>[ ] "Show me how to draw powers from the gods, I want to see what they've got to offer."
>[ ] "Care to portal me back to Hunts Point? I've got some business to take care of."
>[ ] "Let's go over constant spells again, it seems more important long term-wise."
>[ ] "Speaking of portals, let's start working on that some more."
>[ ] "Let's go over sigils again, they're incredibly versatile."
>[ ] Earlier you and I said false gods...What was that about?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3316269
>[ ] "Let's put the sticks aside and go over sigils again. They're incredibly versatile in spite of how simple they seem."
>[ ] Earlier you and I said false gods...What was that about?

>>3316293
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3316420
Is there ever a chance of us going to another planet

>[X] "Let's put the sticks aside and go over sigils again. They're incredibly versatile in spite of how simple they seem."
>[X] Earlier you and I said false gods...What was that about?

This staff enchanting thing is already way too old for your taste. Sigils are relatively new, complex, and exciting. You could make one that makes the most annoying sound Strange can think of in his head whenever he says something stupid. Besides that, you can make a magic alarm system of sigils to alert you if any of your bases are under attack.

You will the energy out of the wooden staff and disperse it.

"Let's put the sticks aside and go over sigils again. They're incredibly versatile in spite of how simple they seem."

Strange nods again before sending yet another magical tome your way.

Dropping the staff, you catch the book in your hand and flip it open.

A sigh escapes your lips as your eyes run over familiar words describing space-time theory.

Earlier you and I said false gods...What was that about?

False gods are false gods: pretenders unworthy of either respect or acknowledgment. You know what I speak of and hold the same sentiment. All pretending, sanctimony, and hypocrisy must die; their existence is sickening and intolerable.

You briefly raise an eyebrow before setting it back down.

He is you and you are him.

For the next three hours, you begin practicing sigil casting in between touch-up and further reading.

A hum rumbles in your throat as you make a series of motions with your finger in front of you, drawing energy from the multiverse and setting it into your current reality.

"Strange, think something stupid."

The doctor groans.

"It didn't work the last eight times you've tried it. You're setting the trigger too wide and on a magical being's internal thoughts. Set the trigger on certain spoken words or phrases. That has a better chance of activating based on your sloppy beginner work."

Clucking your tongue, you will the sigil out of existence.

"You didn't even bother giving it a chance."

He shoots you a look.

"Neither did you."

A sigh escapes your lips.

Your magic teacher is no fun what so ever.

>[ ] "Show me how to draw powers from the gods, I want to see what they've got to offer."
>[ ] "Care to portal me back to Hunts Point? I've got some business to take care of."
>[ ] "Portals seem a lot easier than sigils, let's start working on that some more."
>[ ] "Let's go over constant spells again, it seems more important long term-wise."
>[ ] "Let's go back to enchanting again, I think I've got it down."
>[ ] Keep at sigil studying, it's complicated but interesting.
>[ ] Write In.

Getting late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) before class.

>>3316579
Depends on your actions and certain events going certain ways in the future.

>>3316599
>constant spells
>talk to Strange about godlike aliens
>>3316604
I kinda hope we can eat/absorb a “god”

>>3316599
this >>3316726
Also we should see about trying to teach Marcus some magic later, not too much.

>>3316604
Hmmmmmmmm

>>3316726
+1
We should find out if we can eat the Odinforce.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Let's go over constant spells again, it seems more important long term-wise."
>[X] Talk to Strange about godlike aliens.

Sigils and enchantments are all well and good but they're of little to no use without knowing how to make them constant. If they don't last, they'll just disappear. You can't be in the middle of a fight where you are relying on enchanted clothes to block blades when their magic powered enchantments run out. That fight would end with you getting cut up and likely committing suicide out of shame for relying on magic that much.

"Let's go over constant spells again, it seems more important long term-wise."

Strange nods as the staff you dropped earlier floats back up.

You snatch the rough wood in your hand but keep your eyes on the sorcerer.

"So, what's the deal with god-like aliens? Are they common or rare?"

The wizard hums.

"Depends on where you live in the universe but they are commonly drawn here to earth for various reasons. Some of their powers are biological, cosmic, magical, or spiritual in nature. I wouldn't advise confronting any one of them."

A hum of your own rumbles in your throat as you imbue the staff with magic again, being sure to weave it into the space the staff itself inhabits as well besides its material.

Prey.

Three hours of enchantments, sigil making, and some reading in-between pass by.

Dropping the latest magical tome, you let out a sigh.

"All of this is so much better when I'm imbuing things with magic and weaving sigils."

Strange wags a finger at you.

"If you don't know what you're supposed to be doing, you won't accomplish it when you try it."

You groan.

The graying man is such a bore for a master of magic.

>[ ] "Show me how to draw powers from the gods, I want to see what they've got to offer."
>[ ] "Care to portal me back to Hunts Point? I've got some business to take care of."
>[ ] "Portals seem a lot easier than sigils, let's start working on that some more."
>[ ] "Let's go over sigils again, their versatility is more useful than thi.s"
>[ ] "Let's go back to enchanting again, I think I've got it down."
>[ ] Keep at the constant spell making, it's boring but useful.
>[ ] Write In.

Going off to class. Will close voting and update when I get back.

>>3317669
>go back to enchanting
I’d normally say we should try to get power from the gods but I don’t think they’d be terribly pleased about us

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Let's go back to enchanting again, I think I've got it down."

Constant spells, sigils, and enchantments have a lot of overlap. You've been working on imbuing things with magic more than any other advanced form of magic. Just a few more hours of practice and study and the ability to infuse things with power will be under your control.

"Let's go back to enchanting again, I think I've got it down."

The wizard nods in agreement as yet another staff flies from one part of the atrium into your hand.

"You're close. Take care to remember all the fundamentals of enchanting."

Rolling your eyes, you once again will the energy of the multiverse into the wooden stick.

"I know what I'm doing, old man."

Strange stares in smug silence as the staff atomizes in your hand.

"...Really?"

A sigh escapes your lips.

"...Shut up and give me another one."

Yet another glorified stick flies into your soft angered hands.

For the umpteenth time, you spend another three hours infusing various enchantments into staffs and canes with very little reading in-between.

The latest glorified stick in your hand erupts in jagged shards of ice, wisping off crispy vapor.

A satisfied hum rumbles in your throat.

"What do you think, Strange?" You wiggle the giant wooden icicle. "Have I finally perfected enchantment?"

Strange raises a finger.

"Perfection is a journey: you've only just reached an adequate understanding of imbuing objects with magic."

You shoot the sorcerer a look.

"Don't try to ruin this for me, old man."

He lowers his finger and sighs.

Willing the magic out the staff, the stick turns back to normal.

It's been about nine hours since you've left the warehouse. Should be around three in the afternoon by now. The others are probably waiting for you and, in Marcus' case, pissed.

>[ ] "Show me how to draw powers from the gods, I want to see what they've got to offer."
>[ ] "Care to portal me back to Hunts Point? I've got some business to take care of."
>[ ] "Portals seem a lot easier than sigils, let's start working on that some more."
>[ ] "Let's go over sigils again, their versatility is more useful than this."
>[ ] "Let's go back over constant spells now, I need enchantments to last."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3318642
>[ ] "Care to portal me back to Hunts Point? I've got some business to take care of."
So this is the drawback of Strange's lessons: wasting time outside the base. At last I truly see

>>3318708
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Care to portal me back to Hunts Point? I've got some business to take care of."

>(1/2)

You've finally got down an advanced magic. That's more than enough studying for one day. Marcus is going to be pissed when you get back and Alex is likely waiting to talk to you again. Plus, you haven't checked if Zebra Daddy has done what you ordered him to do.

Lowering the staff to the floor, you focus on the magic man.

"Care to portal me back to Hunts Point? I've got some business to take care of."

Strange raises an eyebrow.

"What is this business of yours, exactly? You said that last time and made up some false story that left me too exasperated to rightfully probe. Really, it's quite concerning."

Shooting the man a look, you cross your arms.

"It's an expression, as in I have other shit to do in my life and with my life. And, if I did have any actual business, it wouldn't be any of yours."

The sorcerer too crosses his arms in mimicry.

"You seem awfully defensive about this." He narrows his eyes. "What are you trying to hide, Kojo?"

A growl rumbles in your throat.

"Quit acting like you're my dad: it's...weird."

Doctor Not-Your-Daddy Strange furrows his brow.

"How is it weird? You're a less fortunate young man with his future ahead of him; why wouldn't I be concerned if you're possibly blowing whatever chance you may have?"

You frown.

"...Why do you care? Why does that matter to you so much? It doesn't make any sense to me. If you said it was because I'm your apprentice, it would, but, the way you put it, you'd ask the same of any kid telling you the same thing."

>(2/2)

He nods.

"I would."

A sigh escapes your lips.

"That's what I don't understand; what exactly are you getting out of it? Besides maybe making you feel like a 'good' person, there's nothing to it. If you were really trying to be completely altruistic, you'd use that magic to save everyone you could. Not as simple as it sounds, I know and that's exactly what good is to me: a pipe dream functional on paper that crumples when taking the real world into account."

Strange frowns, his eyes taking on the same exact look Cage's bitch, him, and Felon have all given you.

Rolling your eyes, you let out a groan.

"Just port me already."

The sorcerer sighs and makes a movement of his arms.

"As you wish."

Once again, a portal opens up beneath you.

The rooftop you land on cracks as you plant your feet on it.

You spin to the direction of the warehouse, sigh, and take off.

Hopping down from one of the ruined neighborhood buildings, you land in front of the open entrance.

Numerous heads turn and eyes immediately fix themselves on your glorious form.

Waving, you walk inside and see the members of your inner circle scattered about doing their own things before turning to look at you too.

Marcus, furrowing his brow in anger, stands himself up from his sitting crate and stomps past your men over.

You raise an eyebrow as your best friend crosses his arms and glares at you in silence.

Honestly, you can't tell whether he's mad that you've been absent or if it's because you spent the night with Alex on the rooftop, your own special private place.

>[ ] "Come on, man; I was learning magic. Fucking. Magic. Don't tell me you wouldn't take a break from your responsibilities to learn some goddamn magic. I'm gonnna teach you some after I'm done learning it myself."
>[ ] "I wanted to call you but I remembered I didn't ask what your burner phone numbers were."
>[ ] "This about Alex? I didn't fuck her if that's what you're mad about."
>[ ] "Alex was right, you really do get mad like a jealous girlfriend."
>[ ] "Today's Sunday, isn't it? Did you collect from dealers yet?"
>[ ] "I came back before dark; doesn't that count for something?"
>[ ] "Is now really the time? Everyone's watching."
>[ ] "...What? What?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3318985
>[ ] "What exactly are you mad about? There's at least three reasons I can think of, but I want to make sure."
>[ ] "...Okay, maybe five, but still!"

>>3318979
>doctor not-your-daddy strange
ABSOLUTE KEK

>>3318996
Ditto

>>3319013
I love Kojo's inner narration stuff like that. I still feel bad for Doctor Strange, having to hide this shit from him even though Kojo needs to. Not to mention Marcus being mad about it. Who knew learning magic wasn't stressful, but everybody would give Kojo grief over it? (admittedly for all the right reasons, but come on!)

Getting late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) If I have any before class.

>>3319046
Yeah man, the inner narration is amazing

>>3319078
it give reality depth

>>3318996
+1

Back from class.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "What exactly are you mad about? There's at least three reasons I can think of, but I want to make sure."
>[X] "...Okay, maybe five, but still!"

There are quite a few reasons that might explain why Marcus is mad at you right now. Knowing your own luck, it could very well be all of them. Best way to resolve this situation is by figuring out which one or ones.

"What exactly are you mad about? There's at least three reasons I can think of, but I want to make sure."

Marcus scoffs but doesn't say a word, letting you stew in the judgmental silence.

You let out a sigh.

"...Okay, maybe five, but still!"

Ever as cold and still as onyx, your best friend continues to glare and only glare.

A familiar pressure forces itself down on your chest.

"...I'm sorry."

The young black man blinks, uncrosses his arms, and sighs as he averts his eyes.

"...I guess it's not that big a deal: you at least came back before dark. Apology accepted."

You blink back.

"Really?"

He directs his eyes back to glaring into yours.

"When you say it like that, no, asshole."

Raising a hand to rub the back of your head beneath your horns, you laugh.

"I...actually do feel sorry, Marcus."

Your best friend sighs once again.

"Whatever, you're here now, which means we've got shit to do. It's the 29th and a Sunday so we may as well shake down all of New York besides the usual drug dealers now that the pimps are ours." He groans. "Come to think of it, we didn't exactly lay down the rules for dealers. We'd have to take care of them too while we're at it. Considering it's already, like, three in the afternoon, we're probably gonna have to wait till tomorrow or the 31st." Shrugging, he sighs again. "It's your call."

A hum rumbles in your throat.

Really, you should leave instructions or something before you leave them alone without leadership. Marcus is your second-in-command but you're the one with the vision for all of this. It's like in any good company: the managers delegates the workers who do the CEO's job while the CEO pilots the ship where it needs to go.

>[ ] "After everyone's done collecting, they can keep most of it. Only Ren should come back here. I want you to get set up in Staten Island and Itsuki Queens. Call me if you need anything or want to talk. After I reveal myself to claim my inheritance in September, I'm going to turn myself in to clear my name."
>[ ] "First thing tomorrow, we're getting up and collecting from all of New York."
>[ ] "It can wait till the very end of the month. Kind of fitting, really."
>[ ] "You can handle it however and whenever you want to."
>[ ] "Hold up, group meeting first."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3320785
>[ ] "After everyone's done collecting, they can keep most of it. Only Ren should come back here. I want you to get set up in Staten Island and Itsuki Queens. Call me if you need anything or want to talk. After I reveal myself to claim my inheritance in September, I'm going to turn myself in to clear my name."
>the collection can wait till the 31st though

>>3320785
this >>3320859
It can wait, but the money will go to them to manage upkeep and shit on their ends. We gotta DELEGATE

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "After everyone's done collecting, they can keep most of it. Only Ren should come back here. I want you to get set up in Staten Island and Itsuki Queens. Call me if you need anything or want to talk. After I reveal myself to claim my inheritance in September, I'm going to turn myself in to clear my name."
>[X] "The collection can wait till the 31st though."

With the fortune Kingpin keeps in his legal accounts and offshore accounts, you're going to have little need for the chump change of a protection racket. It's still a fortune but relatively small in comparison to a real one. Your boys can have one more free day to do whatever they want and say their goodbyes before they're split.

"After everyone's done collecting, they can keep most of it. Only Ren should come back here. I want you to get set up in Staten Island and Itsuki Queens. Call me if you need anything or want to talk. After I reveal myself to claim my inheritance in September, I'm going to turn myself in to clear my name. The collection can wait till the 31st though."

Marcus nods.

"Fucking time you gave some long term instruction other than just telling us what you're planning and ditching us. Speaking of which, you never gave me your burner number."

You flip out your disposable phone and click through the menus to the settings once again.

"Two-One-Two, Six-Six-Six, Three-Five-Eight-One."

The young black man whispers the numbers to himself several times as you slip your burner back in your pocket. He nods and confirms his memorization with a hum.

"Got it. So, were you taking magic lessons again?"

Furrowing your brow, you shoot the man a look.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

Marcus blinks before slapping his lower palm against his forehead.

"Nine-One-Seven, Eight-Two-Six, Seven-Five-Five-Three."

You smile and laugh.

It's always funny whenever he of all people manages to fuck up.

>[ ] "Before we discuss that, group meeting so everyone knows what's going down."
>[ ] "Still considering or do you actually want to learn about it now?"
>[ ] "Did you already get everyone else's numbers?"
>[ ] "First, I need to go get everyone's numbers."
>[ ] "Yeah, what about it?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3321007
>[ ] "Did you already get everyone else's numbers?"
>[ ] "Still considering or do you actually want to learn about it now?"

>>3321030
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Did you already get everyone else's numbers?"
>[X] "Still considering or do you actually want to learn about it now?"

As always, it's good to be thorough when you're checking in on someone. You can't have them in the dark, being doubtful of you, or feeling too down about things. Plus, you can get the phone numbers from him rather than walking through the entire warehouse and asking each member of your inner circle what their burner phones are.

"Did you already get everyone else's numbers?"

Marcus nods.

"Yeah, you should do that too."

Raising an eyebrow, you tilt your head somewhat to the side.

"Can't you just give me them?"

Marcus shoots you a look.

"Why don't you do it? You do everything."

You un-tilt your head to deliver your look to the man straightly.

"Uh-huh, all the important things."

A sigh escapes your best friend's lips.

"...Seriously? Are you really doing this right now?"

You furrow your brow.

"Are you?"

Marcus clucks his tongue.

"Ren's is Two-One-two Six-Eight-Three, Zero-Five-Zero-Three, Cuda's number is Seven-One-Eight Six-Two-Seven Three-Three-Zero-One, Jesús' is Two-One-Two Nine-Nine-Nine Zero-One-Seven, Alex's is Nine-One-Seven Six-Nine-One Three-Three-Five-Seven, and Itsuki's i-"

A raised hand of yours cuts him off.

"I already know his."

The young black man sighs once again.

"Good, I don't have to say one more goddamn number after going through four." He blinks. "Wait, can't you just use magic to talk with us?"

You hum uncertainly.

It's possible once you've understood sigils and constant spells. You can already do a limited version of it with your current mastery of imbument. The phone you're going to get from Tinkerer should more than do its job, though. Would be good to give one to all your inner circle members if Phineas can replicate the super phone.

"Still considering or do you actually want to learn about it now?"

Marcus lets out a hum of his down.

"Depends, can you actually teach me?"

A smile creeps its way on to your lips.

What a stupid but wise question.

>[ ] "Sit your ass down, this is going to be a long three hours."
>[ ] "I can probably get my teacher to tutor you alongside me."
>[ ] "Of course I can, I taught you most of what you know."
>[ ] "...Honestly, I'm not really sure."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3321253
>[ ] "...Honestly, I'm not really sure. Might have to get the doc to tutor you alongside me, but that might piss him off if I bring it up so soon." And with him already questioning your situation, Strange is in a delicate position to manage...
>[ ] "And it's fucking time consuming too. See this shit?" Do cool glowing lights for a short bit, then dispel them. "Learning this supposedly takes a full week of reading, but I got it in a day. In fact, I can confirm learning how to do the good stuff is 80 percent reading boring essentials, but when you get it you get it."
>[ ] "...It's your choice, man."

>>3321323
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...Honestly, I'm not really sure. Might have to get the doc to tutor you alongside me, but that might piss him off if I bring it up so soon."
>[X] "And it's fucking time consuming too. See this shit? Learning this supposedly takes a lot of time to learn, but I got it down in a day. In fact, I can confirm learning how to do the good stuff is eighty percent reading boring essentials, but, when you get it, you get it. It's your choice, man."

There's a lot of things to take into consideration here. Strange's suspicion of you has been growing since your little freak out on him the moment before he first ported you back home. Besides that, the time it takes to teach anyone how to use magic is far longer than the time it took you thanks to your third eye.

You raise a hand to your chin and hum before shrugging.

"...Honestly, I'm not really sure. Might have to get the doc to tutor you alongside me, but that might piss him off if I bring it up so soon."

Marcus raises an eyebrow.

"Doc?"

Ignoring him, you continue.

"And it's fucking time consuming too; see this shit?" You throw up your arms, casting sparks that streak from your fingertips through the air to the ceiling. "Learning this supposedly takes a lot of time to learn, but I got it down in a day." Lowering your arms, you smirk. "In fact, I can confirm learning how to do the good stuff is eighty percent reading boring essentials, but, when you get it, you get it. It's your choice, man."

The black young man blinks.

"...Okaaay, I'm gonna stick with what I have."

A hum rumbles in your throat.

"More magic for me, I guess."

Normal Truman sighs but says nothing.

You raise an eyebrow of your own at him.

He doesn't seem disappointed but he's not happy either, more tired than anything.

>[ ] "I'll teach you magic once I'm a master and we have free time. It's too good of a tool to pass up. Trust me, you're going to want to learn at least the basics."
>[ ] "Doctor Stephen Strange is my magic tutor. He's this world's Sorcerer Supreme: it means he's the greatest sorcerer on the planet. Just letting you know."
>[ ] "How has everyone been with me gone as of late?"
>[ ] "Sooo, you wanna do anything?"
>[ ] "Too much crazy for you?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3321536
>I’ll teach you when I become a master
>how’s everyone been with me gone
Man, we’re setting up a massive betrayal to strange aren’t we?

>>3321536
>"Doctor Stephen Strange is my magic tutor. He's this world's Sorcerer Supreme: it means he's the greatest sorcerer on the planet. Just letting you know."
>"I'll teach you magic once I'm a master and we have free time. It's too good of a tool to pass up. Trust me, you're going to want to learn at least the basics."
>"How has everyone been with me gone as of late?"

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) before class. It's night-class day so expect less updates.

>>3321554
Depends on you guys.

>>3321536
this >>3321576
I don't wanna fight or be against the doc. He's just way too based to consider harming. He's not MARCUS tier, but still

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Doctor Stephen Strange is my magic tutor. He's this world's Sorcerer Supreme: it means he's the greatest sorcerer on the planet. Just letting you know."
>[X] "I'll teach you magic once I'm a master and we have free time. It's too good of a tool to pass up. Trust me, you're going to want to learn at least the basics."
>[X] "How has everyone been with me gone as of late?"

No harm in telling Marcus who your magic teacher is. If anything, it'd let him know to stay away just in case he ever comes across his graying old man ass. You're still going to teach him magic but it'll have to wait until you've mastered it. Real important thing to know right now is how morale has been.

"Doctor Stephen Strange is my magic tutor. He's this world's Sorcerer Supreme: it means he's the greatest sorcerer on the planet. Just letting you know."

Marcus raises an eyebrow.

"The master of magic is a doctor?"

You nod.

"It's a long story he'd happily talk about if you ever meet him, which is considering he'd ever leave his magic house so likely never. Just don't mention me by name, appearance, or mystical-ness and we'll be fine."

The young black man sighs and nods back.

"...All of this is some crazy shit."

You hum in agreement.

"I'll teach you magic once I'm a master and we have free time. It's too good of a tool to pass up. Trust me, you're going to want to learn at least the basics."

He shoots you a look, drops it, and shrugs.

"Guess I might as well. You can't be the only one in the gang with all the weird ass powers. Someday, that's going to attract some certain people or things. You're going to need men with the power, equipment, and skill to stop them because you can't take all of them on your own: they're the exact kind of monster you are."

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot the man a look of your own.

"Mutant, serial killer, soul eater, or sorcerer?"

Truman lays silent.

"...Yes."

Clucking your tongue, you move on to the next subject.

"How has everyone been with me gone as of late?"

Marcus doesn't skip a beat.

"About the same. It's not like you were around much before all this. Though, some are kind of nervous about your magic. Some weird kind of phobia or something, I don't know. Besides that, you did conquer everyone who'd want to launch an attack on us. No real reason to worry."

A hum rumbles in your throat.

You don't know whether to feel concerned or glad your men don't need you around.

>[ ] "You act like a jealous girlfriend whenever I'm gone for long."
>[ ] "Speaking of magic, I'm going to go learn some more."
>[ ] "Randomly disappearing isn't so bad after all, huh?"
>[ ] "Do I have anything to be concerned about?"
>[ ] "Sooo, you wanna do anything?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3322891
>[ ] "Soooooo... you wanna do anything while we're free? We won't have much time like this after I out myself for the inheritance."
>[ ] "What did you have in mind?"

Off to class. Will close voting and update when I get back.

>>3322992
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Soooooo... you wanna do anything while we're free? We won't have much time like this after I out myself for the inheritance."
>[X] "What did you have in mind?"

It's been days since you two lay down beside one another on the warehouse roof. Doing something together would be good for the both of you. Also, it'd give you an opportunity to explain yourself in regards to your old self lurking in the darkest corners of your mind.

"Soooooo...you wanna do anything while we're free? We won't have much time like this after I out myself for the inheritance."

Marcus shrugs.

"I guess."

You let out another pleased hum.

"What did you have in mind?"

The man raises a hand to his chin.

"Already had lunch, people are in Baretto Point around this time, you're a wanted suspect now, James' has been shot to shit, and I don't really go out much to know a lot of places." Once again, he shrugs. "Your call."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Do you really just stay in here while I'm away all day?"

Marcus scoffs.

"Hell no, I still need to eat like everyone else."

Tilting your head, you keep up the inquisitive look.

"And besides that?"

Marcus sighs.

"I don't really need to go out much."

You cluck your tongue.

"Here I have you keeping tabs on all the places we collect protection money from but you can't come up with one to go to?"

The young black man shoots you a look.

"Most of them are independent stores, restaurants, and run-down business offices."

Crossing your arms, you raise another eyebrow at your best friend.

"Still."

He sighs.

"...Just pick something, Kojo."

You raise a hand to your chin and hum for the umpteenth time.

>[ ] "...I need to go back home. You don't have to come with me, if you'd like. There's something I need to talk with you about there."
>[ ] "...Let's go back to our family home, we have a name to give to the man who taught us a lot of what we know."
>[ ] "There's Jimmy's Grand Cafe in Unionport, I went with Ren there a few days ago."
>[ ] "We can hang out on the rooftop together."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3323463
>Go to a rooftop close to the river where you drowned
Better spill the stuff about Old Kojo to him there, it might help

Going to go to my night class soon. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

Whatcha thinkin', whatcha doin'?

>>3323546
Ditto

>>3323670
Not much dude, just trying to live my life man. What about you?

Back from class.

Voting closed; writing now.
>>3324384
more existentialism and mood swings

Feeling better right now but that may change in the future, of course.

>[X] Go to a rooftop close to the river where you drowned.

You need to go back. There are answers you need to find there and understand or you'll die on the inside, reverting back to the husk of a person you were before. Neither Marcus or you will like it, but it needs to be done, and he can help.

Lowering your hand to your side, you sigh.

"...I need to go back to where I...And you need to come with me."

Marcus blinks.

"Are you...sure about this?"

You slowly nod.

"Uh-huh, I need to explain some things to you about what I said last night and find out a few things for myself."

The man's eyes widen in realization for a moment before narrowing back down.

"Oh yeah, what the fuck is that about?"

Shrugging, you hold out your hands.

"I don't know: it's what I'm trying to find out." You turn, start making your way through the crowd towards the open gate, and motion for your best friend to follow you from behind. "Come on."

Marcus sighs as he begins to follow you out the gate.

"Ren's in charge while we're gone, obviously; stay put for now, boys!"

Stepping out into the open air, a chorus of confirming hums rumble behind you.

You slip your arm across Marcus' waist as soon as he gets to your side and back-flip on to the roof of the warehouse.

The black young man in your grasp groans before you take off towards the river.

It takes you within half a minute to reach the building of Rocking the Boat, a non-profit boating company right by the Sims Metal Management salvage yard, Hunts Point Riverside Park, and the river you know all too well.

You let go of Marcus as you land and stare out at Soundview Park's side of the bank.

An abyss of nothingness lays where the Bronx River once flowed through.

"We're here, Kojo. Now, what the fuck is going on with you?"

From the corner of your eye, you see a significant portion of the park sunken beneath the darkness.

"Kojo?"

You blink.

This is wrong.

This is The Stream of the End and the Beginning.

>[ ] "...I think I might have made a mistake coming back here."
>[ ] "...Think I might be broken, Marcus: irreparably."
>[ ] "...Marcus, do you see that?"
>[ ] "...Did I sink the park?"
>[ ] It looks a lot more like The Stream of the End right now.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3326117
>[ ] It looks a lot more like The Stream of the End right now.
>[ ] "...Marcus, are you seeing what I'm seeing?"
>[ ] "I think I might have made a mistake coming back here, but at least you're here with me."
>[ ] Explain to Marcus the unearthly strangeness you're seeing right here.
>[ ] "Pretty sure there isn't supposed to be a void conveniently over the spot I died. Might have to do with me bringing you along."

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3326191
Ditto

>[X] It looks a lot more like The Stream of the End right now.
>[X] "...Marcus, are you seeing what I'm seeing?"
>[X] "I think I might have made a mistake coming back here, but at least you're here with me."
>[X] Explain to Marcus the unearthly strangeness you're seeing right here.
>[X] "Pretty sure there isn't supposed to be a void conveniently where the river I died in is supposed to be. Might have to do with me bringing you along."

Considering he and Bruckner freeway drivers are not freaking the fuck out, the river of nothing is very likely something only you can see. Definitely not real, but it looks that way to you. There doesn't seem to be a beginning to the end your soul is talking about. Really, you probably shouldn't have come here so soon and with someone you hold dear.

It looks a lot more like The Stream of the End right now.

Perhaps That Which Was You cannot see it for what it truly is and blinds you. It could very well be that you yourself cannot envision The Stream of the End and the Beginning. Either way, what you see is not the truth and only a wraith of the past.

A low-pitch hum rumbles in your throat.

"...Marcus, are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

The young black man appears at your side.

"What exactly are you seeing right now?"

You take in a deep breathe and let out a drawn-out sigh.

"I think I might have made a mistake coming back here, but at least you're here with me."

Marcus, shooting you a look, clucks his tongue.

"Seriously, what the fuck do you see?"

A laugh escapes your lips.

"Nothing; a big whole river of absolute nothing. It's like a huge crack to oblivion. Just one step over the edge of the riverbank or a hop and you're nothing. You won't feel, taste, see, smell, hear, remember, think, or move ever again."

You turn to the eyes of your concerned best friend.

"Pretty sure there isn't supposed to be a void conveniently where the river I died in is supposed to be. Might have to do with me bringing you along."

Marcus sighs.

"...Kojo, the river is still there. What you're seeing is all in that fucked up head of yours." He places a hand on your shoulder. "You're not going to die again and, even if you do, you'll still live with that soul of yours. Only real trouble will be finding a new body as useful as the old one."

You scoff and laugh.

Like you'd ever move out of your fine ass super mutant body much less die. The healing factor its got will make sure you live for a long time. Oblivion is a distant memory and Death hardly has a say in your continued activity on this plane of existence.

His words are still comforting, though.

>[ ] "Let's leave, this doesn't have any answers to my questions."
>[ ] "Is the park supposed look like that too?"
>[ ] "Bitch please, this body is perfect."
>[ ] "...Thanks."
>[ ] Does this place scare y̬͓̼̦ͅo̬ų͕?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3326445
>bitch please, I’m perfect
>is the park supposed to look like that too

>>3326445
this >>3326634
Good thing best bro Marcus is here to ground Kojo in the moment

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Bitch please, I'm perfect."
>[X] "Is the park supposed to look like that too?"

He must know just how pathetic the assumption that you'll ever die is. You are the Bloodied Horned Superior Kingpin of New York City and nothing will ever change that. The park, however, looks completely fucked beyond repair. It's as if a leviathan of the abyss took a bite out of the place.

"Bitch please, I'm perfect."

Once again, your best friend shoots you a look.

"Mothafucka, you still bleed."

You smirk.

"Stops in seconds and closes up like the zipper to a sweater."

Marcus, turning to the park, scoffs and laughs.

"Whatever. Fuck, I haven't been to Riverside park since I dragged your ass out of the river; hasn't changed one bit either."

Raising an eyebrow, you follow the black man's lead.

"Is the park supposed to look like that too?"

Marcus raises an eyebrow back.

"Like what?"

A small hum rumbles in your throat.

"Like a whale somehow crammed its fat ass this far into the Bronx river through the East River and tore a part of the earth out with its teeth."

Marcus laughs.

"Kojo, you did that."

You blink.

"I did?"

The young black man slowly nods his head in smugness.

"When you woke back up, you screamed and the fucking ground collapsed underneath us. I had to dive in after you and drag your ass back to shore a second time. Thank Christ you broke every bone in your body or you would've killed me: no one gets in that much pain and doesn't start thrashing and it was your mixed mutant ass' super strength that sunk us."

A laugh escapes your lips.

"My hero."

Marcus doesn't drop his smug smile.

"And don't you fucking forget it."

You glare into the bright blue eyes of your best friend.

He drops his smile and glare back into your slitted crimson red on black.

A still silence fills the air.

The two of you raise your heads and laugh at the same time.

Neither of you are heroes and will likely never be in the conventional sense.

>[ ] "We'll be able to go places and hang out again in a while; I promise. Stay put, keep your head down, and hide your face: no one can know who you are if you're going to be my second-in-command in the corporate world."
>[ ] "The both of us should go back home...our old home: we have a name to etch onto a gravestone."
>[ ] "Let's go back to the warehouse, this place doesn't have any answers to my questions."
>[ ] "...Thanks."
>[ ] Does this place scare y̬͓̼̦ͅo̬ų͕?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3327049
>we should go back home
>[ ] "We'll be able to go places and hang out again in a while; I promise. Stay put, keep your head down, and hide your face: no one can know who you are if you're going to be my second-in-command in the corporate world."

>>3327049
>>[X] "...Thanks."
>>[X] Does this place scare y̬͓̼̦ͅo̬ų͕?

>>3327049
first this >>3327099
acknowledge bro bring bro, question Old Kojo a little
then >>3327089
going to old home and promising future hangouts

Getting late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

Life is good, man. Life is good.

Voting closed; writing now

>[X] "...Thanks."
>[X] Does this place scare y̬͓̼̦ͅo̬ų͕?
>[X] "The both of us should go back home...our old home: we have a name to etch onto a gravestone."
>[X] "We'll be able to go places and hang out again in a while; I promise. Stay put, keep your head down, and hide your face: no one can know who you are if you're going to be my second-in-command in the corporate world."

>(1/2)

It's good Marcus came here to share this moment with you otherwise you'd probably be having a breakdown by now. You still haven't heard from the other voice in your head, though. The entire point of coming here was to get some answers.

You let out your last laugh and smile.

"...Thanks."

Marcus lowers his head and smiles back.

"No problem, man."

Letting out a wistful sigh, you turn to the abyssal river and frown.

Does this place scare y̬͓̼̦ͅo̬ų͕?

Ṉ͕̱o,͕̻̺͉̟͠ ̸̪̱̟̼͎͓͎I̛̳͓̮ ̛͍̦h̻̻̜̱͙̱̰ạ͜v͍̥̘̥e ̻̯͚̖͖͢n̡̺͉̙e̗̗̞͇̖̟v̶͔̫͇͖̭̮e͚r̙̻ ̷̳̮͚̳̗̱oṋ̺̪̜̤͚͞c̠̖e̩͕̩ ͍͓̠f̝̟͔̜e̗lt̺̩̼̹̖ ́f̴͙e̷͚͚͉̬͖̗̼a̝̤̯̘̮͚r̖͟.̣̗

A hum rumbles in your throat.

Not an illuminating answer but an interesting one nonetheless. You've only ever felt fear once when you woke up after your first talk with your old self. Back then, you had no fear or emotion. It was one of the things Dan respected and was concerned about you.

Speaking of Dan.

You turn back to face the concerned eyes of your best friend.

"The both of us should go back home...our old home: we have a name to etch onto a gravestone."

Marcus furrows his brow and nods.

"Yeah, we do. Fuck, we should have done it days ago."

You nod back.

"We should've and we are."

>(2/2)

Turning to the direction of the old warehouse, you wrap an arm around Marcus' waist before taking off.

It takes you quite a few seconds to touchdown on the ground in front of the old warehouse entrance.

Letting go of Marcus, you lead him around the deserted building to the makeshift graves of cement and dirt.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you etch the finishing letters on the improptu wall grave stone with your finger.

You lean back and stare at the finished words with your best friend.


Daniel Truman

Vigilant and Forthright to the End

A True Patriot

Sine Pari, De Oppresso Liber


Marcus hums.

"Honestly, Daniel doesn't really fit Dan. Truman, yeah but Daniel just sounds so..."

Raising an eyebrow, you finish the man's sentence for him.

"Non-white trashy?"

Marcus nods.

"Dan is a perfect white trash name; Daniel sounds so clean."

You nod back in agreement.

"The old man was a crusty fuck."

Marcus laughs.

"He would've beaten your ass for saying that."

You laugh back.

"Fuck yeah, he would've."

The two of you share yet another laugh together.

Several seconds pass before your laughter dies down.

"We'll be able to go places and hang out again in a while; I promise. Stay put, keep your head down, and hide your face: no one can know who you are if you're going to be my second-in-command in the corporate world."

Marcus stops his laughing and nods.

"I know, Kojo. Take care of yourself and don't fuck it up. You've gotten this far already."

You smile.

"I won't, Marcus."

He's right, you have come too far to fuck it up now and you're not going to.

>[ ] "I need you to not fuck up now. I've been on a winning streak since this whole thing started."
>[ ] "Want to go have an early dinner? I didn't have lunch."
>[ ] "Alright, let's go back to the warehouse."
>[ ] "Do you think...he would try to stop us?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3328806
>try to not fuck this up
>let’s go eat

>>3328806
>>[X] "Alright, let's go back to the warehouse."

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>try to not fuck this up
>let’s go eat

>>[X] "Alright, let's go back to the warehouse."

>[X] "I need you to not fuck up now. I've been on a winning streak since this whole thing started."
>[X] "Want to go have an early dinner? I didn't have lunch."

>(1/2)

Ever since the day that biker tried to off you, you've been on your A-Game. If anything, he should be the one watching his own ass. Just one fuck up from one of your boys and there's a good chance you're done.

"I need you to not fuck up now. I've been on a winning streak since this whole thing started."

Marcus laughs.

"By the skin of your fucking teeth. I know you, Kojo. There's no way you weren't close to fucking up the whole thing at least four times. You weren't much of a smooth talker before this whole thing went down."

You scoff.

"Motherfucker, you've seen how I turned our rivals into our obedient soldiers. If anything, I've just gotten the opportunity to perfect it. Now I can convince an old grandmother to sell her baby grandson to me on a discount."

The young black man clucks his tongue.

"I'll believe it when I see it."

A smirk creeps its way on your face.

"You'll get to see it plenty when I'm CEO. I'll buy out other companies for pennies on the dollar; I'll bring down Stark Industries, buy it, and fly around in Iron Man's armor. The fucking Avengers trademark will be my legal property and I will make a killing selling toys of those latex and spandex fetishists to children!" You blink and raise a hand to your chin. "That might actually be a really good way to make money. Avengers is a little too high up there, so I should focus on getting the independent super heroes' trademarks."

Marcus shoots you a questioning look.

"What's a trademark."

Snapping your left hand's fingers, you lower your right hand from your chin and grin.

"Oh, that would be fucking perfect!"

Your best friend tilts his head.

"Kojo?"

A laugh escapes your lips as you turn to the black man.

"Want to go have an early dinner? I didn't have lunch."

Marcus blinks.

"...Um, okay. You're going to have to explain what that was about over food."

You wrap an arm around your best friend's waist and hop to the roof of the old warehouse.

"I will and you'll laugh with me."

Once again, you turn in the direction of a restaurant and take off.

It takes you several seconds to land in front of Randall, a restaurant on the conveniently named Randall Avenue.

Letting go of Marcus, you lead him inside the independent restaurant.

>(2/2)

The man behind the counter widens his eyes at the sight of you as you walk in.

"...Hijo de tu puta madre, el Diablo." (Translation: "Son of your whore mother, the Devil.")

You raise a hand in greeting.

"Hola señor! Yo quero un plato de tilapia con arroz maro, un vaso de agua, y un flan de chocolate para postre." (Translation: "Hello mister! I want a plate of tilapia with Moorish Rice, a glass of water, and a chocolate flan for dessert.")

Mr. Counter man rapidly nods and inputs your order on his wageslave electric order thing.

"¿Y...tu amigo negro?"

A sigh escapes your best friend's lips.

"Un plato de salmón frito con arroz maro, un vaso de agua, y nada para postre, por favor." (Translation: "A plate of fried salmon with Moorish rice, a glass of water, and nothing for dessert, please.")

The man blinks as you laugh.

"...Se hablas español muy bien." (Translation: "You speak very good Spanish.")

Marcus smiles.

"Una loca cubana me enseñaba cada vez que me gritaba." (Translation: "A crazy cuban[female] taught me every time she yelled at me.")

Slave counter man laughs as he inputs your best friend's order in the thing.

"Elija una mesa y le traeremos su comida." (Translation: "Choose a table and we will bring your food to you.")

You nod, turn to the direction of the tables, walk over, and ease yourself into a seat.

Marcus slips himself in the seat opposite of you and leans back on his chair.

"Is it me or is that guy Dominican?"

Once again, you nod.

"He is, can't mistake the smell."

The young black man smirks.

"Racist."

You sit unfazed.

"Everyone's racist. It just so happens I can smell race. Weirdest thing but, hey, mutant biology."

Marcus furrows his brow.

"Seriously, mutant powers are bullshit."

A laugh escapes your lips as you nod in agreement.

Despite your own, there are far other greater mutations in the world.

>[ ] "Abuelita liked you for watching my back, you know. She didn't like that you were black but you at least gave me company."
>[ ] "If I could splice your DNA with the X-gene, would you go for it?"
>[ ] "How did you first react when you found out I was a mutant?"
>[ ] "Who's your favorite X-men?"
>[ ] Sit and wait for food.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3329651
>There's no way you weren't close to fucking up the whole thing at least four times.
Thanks for the QM confirmation Afungi.

>>3329659
>[ ] "Abuelita liked you for watching my back, you know. She didn't like that you were black but you at least gave me company."
>[ ] "How did you first react when you found out I was a mutant?"
also yeah, mutant powers are 100% bullshit
based marcus telling it like it is, like everybody else knows about Mahvehl universe

>>3329659
>we can smell race
Top kek
>>3329743
Ditto but also ask him if he wants to be a mutant

Voting closed; writing now

>>3329773
Logan and Laura can too, which means Daken also can. It's really weird.

>[X] "Abuelita liked you for watching my back, you know. She didn't like that you were black but you at least gave me company."
>[X] "How did you first react when you found out I was a mutant?"
>[X] "If I could splice your DNA with the X-gene, would you go for it?"

>(1/2)

The old woman doesn't deserve any lingering feelings of resentment Marcus might hold for her. She had her faults but she still took care of the both of you when you needed proper shelter and food. If he feels like she really did hate him, it would at least make him feel less bad about that.

"Abuelita liked you for watching my back, you know. She didn't like that you were black but you at least gave me company."

Marcus sighs.

"I know, Kojo. Me and her actually talked about that on more than one occasion."

You blink.

"Wait, you did?"

The young black man nods.

"It's not like she had you to talk to. Only words that came out of your mouth to her back then were half-assed thank yous and please let go of me or I'll kill yous. I was the only one she and Dan could ask to find out if you were really doing alright."

Widening your eyes, you look down at the table.

"Oh fuck, I did used to say that to her." You look back up to your friend. "Well, she did used to hold me a little too close."

Marcus shoots you a look.

"All she did was hug you, man."

You furrow your brow.

"I saw a lot of kids get 'hugs' like that before I met you. They'd scream and cry while the old man thrusting against them laughed. Can't exactly blame for wanting a little personal space. If Abuelita were any other person and didn't respect my wishes during our first meeting, I would've killed her."

The man you call your closest friend stares in silence.

"...Fuck, Kojo."

>(2/2)

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a questioning look of your own.

"What?"

He shakes his head.

"You never talk about this shit."

Frowning, you keep up your questioning look.

"And?"

Marcus sighs again.

"That's the kind of shit I think you're holding back or just ignoring. Apparently, the old you that went through all that is still alive. Don't you think that's a little more than a coincidence?"

You blink and nod.

"It's too convenient but the old me is more of a...fundamental issue. Don't know how to describe what it's like talking to an echo of myself. I can see the correlation but I just don't like talking about the past: you know how I get."

The black man clucks his tongue.

"Maybe you need to."

Nodding in agreement, you let out a sigh of your own.

"...Maybe I do."

Both of you sit in silence for a moment.

Little trace of the old you is left in the current you. Apex Fang and old taught skills from your parental figures are still there but they're rusted and blunt. The voice is the only thing remotely left and it is only an echo of its last moments. Not even your genetics are the same anymore ever since you were reborn as a mutant.

Speaking of mutants.

"How did you first react when you found out I was a mutant?"

Marcus blinks and scoffs.

"Of fucking course you'd be one. Your mixed black beaner ass wasn't enough to label you as an outcast. Now you can't pass off as either Mexican or Black in the big city: you're a mutie in everyone's eyes. Besides that, the horns suited you then and they suit you now."

You laugh and flip the man the finger before setting it down.

"If I could splice your DNA with the X-gene, would you go for it?"

The normal brown-skinned human raises a hand to his chin.

"...Depends on which one you give me. I wouldn't want your powers on account of your uncontrollable strength. Any over the top super strength mutation is out of the question for me. I'll stick to a moderate level of enhanced physical strength." He shrugs. "Too much to choose from. Basic ones like super reflexes or just enhanced everything sound best to me: I've never really had a problem being the jack-of-all-trades in the inner circle."

A hum rumbles in your throat.

Not exactly how you'd describe Marcus' combat role in the inner circle but he is very much like a swiss army knife.

>[ ] "Can you imagine combining mutations and magic? I already have ideas on how to make up for my skin's shortcomings."
>[ ] "Do you really not want any of the high-end stuff like psionics or invisibility?"
>[ ] "Which superhero team is the best and why is it the X-men?"
>[ ] "Exactly where do you stand on mutant rights?"
>[ ] "Who's your favorite X-man?"
>[ ] Sit and wait for food.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3330446
>[ ] "Can you imagine combining mutations and magic? I already have ideas on how to make up for my skin's shortcomings."
>[ ] "Do you really not want any of the high-end stuff like psionics or invisibility?"

>>3330446
this >>3330457
I'm glad Marcus isn't against the idea entirely.

Getting late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

How you guys doing? Watcha thinking?

>>3330541
I’m doing good, I’m really liking this quest although I can’t wait till we start really doing stuff again

>>3330541
>>3330557
We'e building up to something big, I can feel it already.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Can you imagine combining mutations and magic? I already have ideas on how to make up for my skin's shortcomings."
>[X] "Do you really not want any of the high-end stuff like psionics or invisibility?"

You're already a powerhouse with your mutations but you'll be even more of an absolute beast after you've learned the advanced magics. There are already a lot of applications you've thought of for it. Marcus might be able to come up with more clever ideas on how you could power up.

"Can you imagine combining mutations and magic? I already have ideas on how to make up for my skin's shortcomings."

Marcus clucks his tongue.

"Trying to turn yourself white now?"

You smirk.

"Oh fuck you, you know what I mean."

The man laughs and nods.

"If I were you, I'd focus more on your bones. Your super strength isn't worth shit if you break every bone in your hand when you punch someone. Not as bad as it was when you first started out but still."

Furrowing your brow, you shoot your friend a look.

"The level of strength I can already exhibit is more than enough but I can see where you're coming from."

Marcus smiles.

"Sure you can with those three eyes of yours. Next crazy thing you're going to find out about yourself is that third one's also a mutation of yours."

A laugh escapes your lips.

"Do you really not want any of the high-end stuff like psionics or invisibility?"

The young black man nods his head.

"Having all that power means less control, you know what I mean? Just look at yourself."

You cluck your tongue and flip him the finger again.

Always a cheeky bastard, Marcus indeed is.

Dominican slave counter man walks to the side of your table and proceeds to set down your ordered foods before leaving the both of you in peace.

>[ ] "Which superhero team is the best and why is it the X-men?"
>[ ] "Exactly where do you stand on mutant rights?"
>[ ] "Who's your favorite X-man?"
>[ ] Start eating, food is there for a reason.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3332468
>eat
>what’s your favourite mutant out there
We don’t need to ask his stance, he’s already here

>>3332468
this >>3332904

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Start eating, food is there for a reason.
>[X] "Who's your favorite X-man?"

>(1/2)

Independent Dominican wageslave man didn't bust his own slaves' asses to cook this for no free for you to not eat it. That's good food going to waste the time you spend talking about other things and not eating any. You can ask who's his favorite mutant vigilante after.

Grabbing hold of your given cutlery, you dig your fork into the tilapia and start cutting it into pieces with your steak knife.

Marcus watches on as he does the same to his own fish.

"You're cutting your meat, that's a first."

Humming a tune, you the raise the middle finger of your fork holding hand.

The man laughs and shakes his head before focusing on cutting his own food.

You finish cutting off the last piece of the fried fish and plop it into your mouth.

A purr vibrates in your throat as you roll the savory piece of toasted meat around your maw.

Marcus raises an eyebrow as you proceed to chomp the morsel into pieces and swallow it.

"If I wasn't so used to seeing you eat like an animal, I'd be creeped out by now."

You scoff.

"Who's your favorite X-man?"

Truman blinks and raises an eyebrow.

"What?"

Plopping another piece into your mouth, you point your fork at the man.

"Who is your favorite mutant out there."

Marcus, lowering his eyebrow, hums.

"...Cyclops."

You swallow the piece and blink.

"Really, why?"

He shoots you a look.

"Did you want me to say it was you?"

>(2/2)

You begin to shake your head but stop as you crane your neck.

"...Kind of."

Marcus laughs.

"Cyclops is cool, collected, professional, and forthright in every public appearance and recorded sightings. His power isn't that bullshit either. The rest don't have as much exposure as he does anyway with the exception of Wolverine, who's a dick and is now on our list of enemies."

A hum rumbles in your throat.

"Wolverine's still my favorite X-man."

Truman scrunches his face up, giving you another one of his 'Are you fucking kidding me' looks.

"Why?"

You smirk.

"He might be a pain in the ass but he doesn't take shit from any of those mutant hating idiots like visor eyes and does his own thing besides the X-men. Cyke is too much of a punching bag for my tastes. Pretty boy needs to man the fuck up."

Marcus scoffs.

"If you ask me, Wolverine's the one who needs to grow some balls and learn to take some shit."

You chuckle.

"We're going to give him plenty of it if he comes for us. Uncle Mutie Tom is just the perfect card to play. Skin color difference is just perfect, too."

The man shakes his head and laughs.

"Something about that is just so fucked up but something I really want to see happening."

Letting out the last of your laughs, you sigh.

"You will if he tries what I think he will."

Putting a piece of his grilled salmon in his mouth, Marcus shakes his head again.

It is a really fucked up thing to do to another mutant but you won't let anything get in your way.

Plus, it'd be absolutely hilarious.

>[ ] "Do you think we should be neutral or take part in mutant-human relations?"
>[ ] "Just what exactly should I watch out for when everything is settling in?"
>[ ] "Which superhero team is the best and why is it the X-men?"
>[ ] "If we piss the X-men off, do you think we can take them?"
>[ ] Eat the rest of your food, its not going to eat itself.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3333762
>[ ] "Just what exactly should I watch out for when everything is settling in?"
>[ ] Eat the rest of your food, its not going to eat itself.
>[ ] "Which superhero team is the best and why is it the X-men?"
>inb4 he replies Avengers

>>3333870
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Just what exactly should I watch out for when everything is settling in?"
>[X] Eat the rest of your food, its not going to eat itself.
>[X] "Which superhero team is the best and why is it the X-men?"

>(1/2)

Marcus might be able to see other threats with his own street-level point of view you're very much in the process of losing. There's a lot of things that could hurt your plans and your image. His advice can help prevent damage to both.

You stab into another piece of tilapia and plop it into your mouth.

"Just what exactly should I watch out for when everything is settling in?"

Marcus swallows his salmon.

"For one thing, the way you dress. All red isn't exactly the most trusting color to wear." He picks up his glass of water and takes a gulp. "Try some blue or throw on a suit." He sets down his glass and smirks. "Though, everyone's going to be looking at your horns."

Chomping and swallowing the bits of fish in your mouth, you shoot him a look.

"I'll take that into consideration; now, can you be serious?"

The man nods.

"Keep your story straight and your character. The more you change it or act differently, people will be more suspicious of you than they already will be. Be as honest as you can about your past, too. Unanswered questions will also make people suspicious. At the same time, don't answer every question like you want to talk about what happened or just leave some unanswered: you can't be too perfect."

An understanding hum rumbles in your throat as you toss another piece of tilapia in your mouth.

Your image needs to be that of a troubled genius who just so happened to inherit a fortune from uncle fatass crime lord you saved from a mugging one time. Won't be too hard to sell. Big trouble will be the controversy behind your inheritance rather than you as a person.

>(2/2)

Munching the fish to pieces, you put another morsel in your mouth and repeat the process before swallowing all the scraps of tilapia in your crowded, clenched maw. You lift the plate of remaining rice to your lips, tilt it downward, and scrape the Moorish rice down into your mouth. A purr vibrates in your throat as you roll the beads of rice around before mashing them into a fine past and swallowing them.

Truman raises an eyebrow at you as he drinks from his glass of water.

You raise an eyebrow of your own back, taking your own glass in hand.

"Which superhero team is the best and why is it the X-men?"

Marcus lowers his glass and scoffs.

"Let's be real here, the Avengers are the best superhero team. X-men are good but they're small time. The Avengers have saved the world more than once and don't get their formerly secret super hero school mansion blown up every year or two."

Taking a sip out of your glass, you shoot him a look.

"Having your mansion home destroyed builds character."

Your best friend shakes his head and laughs.

While the Avengers are the most effective super hero team, they're the most boring out of the bunch. The Fantastic Four and the X-men are more interesting due to the circumstances they're in. The Avengers are like a corporation and the Fantastic Four and X-men are non-profits facing scrutiny.

>[ ] "Do you think we should be neutral or take part in mutant-human relations?"
>[ ] "If we piss the X-men off, do you think we can take them?"
>[ ] "Just what do you think about superheroes in general?"
>[ ] Sit and wait for your flan, can't skip dessert.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3334966
>[ ] "Do you think we should be neutral or take part in mutant-human relations?"
>[ ] "If we piss the X-men off, do you think we can take them?"
>[ ] "Just what do you think about superheroes in general?"
>wait for the flan too

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

How you guys doing? Watcha thinking?

>>3334966
backing this >>3335016

>>3335036
could be better, could be worse, as usual

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Do you think we should be neutral or take part in mutant-human relations?"
>[X] "If we piss the X-men off, do you think we can take them?"
>[X] "Just what do you think about superheroes in general?"
>[X] Sit and wait for your flan, can't skip dessert.

>(1/2)

While you likely have no choice in the matter considering the tensions between muties and flat scans, it would be good to hear his input. There's also a very good chance you might end up pissing off the X-men in which way you handle Wolverine, if he even bothers to investigate. It'd be good to here his opinion about superheroes while you're at it: you have been talking about them for the past few minutes.

"Do you think we should be neutral or take part in mutant-human relations?"

Marcus clucks his tongue.

"Way I see it, you're gonna have to jump in that pile of shit. Someone's either drag you in or people are gonna think you're in regardless. Just act like a normal person and point out the bullshit on both sides but give ways to improve. Make sure you do some of those improvements too: it's all preaching if you don't follow your own words."

Nodding, you take a gulp from your glass.

The political climate doesn't have room for centrists and never has. Whether you like it or not, you have to take a stand on the issue or someone will for you. Although, no one ever said your stand couldn't be different from theirs unless they were an idiot. Main trouble is going to be differentiating yourself from both stands and validating your own. It should be relatively easy, though: anti-mutant lobbyists are racist extremists funding the equivalent of terrorist groups, and the X-men are largely seen as out of touch in that big school mansion of theirs while the other mutants are persecuted around the world. In comparison, you're the down-to-earth man of the people for both mutants and flat-scans on the issue.

Setting down the glass, you let out a brisk sigh.

"If we piss the X-men off, do you think we can take them?"

Marcus scoffs before raising a hand to stroke his chin.

"In a straight up fight, hell no; in an ambush or trap...any of them that aren't bullet proof or can heal fast like you do."

>(2/2)

You blink.

"...Really?"

The second-in-command shoots you a look as he lifts a piece of his salmon.

"Just because they have powers don't mean bullets can't kill them or knives slitting their throats can't. Besides, the X-men's whole thing is surprise attacks and ambushes, right? Probably too used to attacking to defend against the same tactics: just look at the amount of times their school mansion was blown the fuck up."

Raising your glass of water to your lips, a small hum rumbles in your throat.

It is actually very much possible for your crew to take the X-men in an ambush. Hell, it's possible you could wipe the whole team if you were fast and precise enough in a surprise attack. They're much better off being your allies, though: no use shedding blood that will take more effort than it took to draw it to cover up.

You down the last of your water and sit the empty glass down.

"Just what do you think about superheroes in general?"

Marcus swallows the chewed pieces of his salmon.

"If they weren't here, a lot more people would be dead and we'd be the slaves of aliens; at the same time, those street-level punks are going to be a pain in our ass. There are positives and negatives but the positives outweigh the negatives."

Letting out one last hum, you lean back on your chair.

Not exactly the kind of answer you were looking for but you did say what he thought of superheroes in general.

A few minutes pass by until the Dominican slave man sets down a small plate of chocolate flan in front of you and Marcus is done with his salmon.

>[ ] "Is Spider-boy a public menace or a hero?"
>[ ] "Think we should start our own hero team?"
>[ ] "Whose your favorite superhero?"
>[ ] "Do you want some?"
>[ ] Chow down, chocolate flaaan~
>[ ] Write In.

>>3337380
>>[X] "Is Spider-boy a public menace or a hero?"
>>[X] "Think we should start our own hero team?"
The perfect cover, no one would suspect the heroes are actually hight tier mafiosos. Arm our friends with gadgets and throw in Spidey and Strange for good measure and you got a cool team for every situation.

>>3337418
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

have you guys told marcus about spider-man yet? I honestly can't remember

>>3337624
We probably mentioned it off handedly

>[X] "Is Spider-boy a public menace or a hero?"
>[X] "Think we should start our own hero team?"

>(1/2)

He hasn't ever really talked about the local neighborhood heroes. It's not like you expanded enough to encounter any of them before now. Ren and Cuda went against Daredevil and a newcomer to the vigilante world, to your knowledge. Itsuki was probably too fast and organized to draw the attention of the red and blue spandex wearing menace. Staten Island has no heroes, fortunately, so it was a cakewalk for Marcus. All-in-all, he probably doesn't care.

"Is Spider-boy a public menace or a hero?"

Marcus looks up from his now clean plate.

"What?"

Taking up a spoon, you scoop a piece of the gelatinous custard out.

"Is Spider-man a menace like he is in the papers or a hero like all the other capes?"

Your best friend shrugs.

"He's going to be a pain in the ass, so I don't see how that matters."

A hum rumbles in your throat as you put the flan in your mouth.

"Just tell me what you think of him."

Marcus rolls his eyes.

"From the reports on the news and in the papers, he's a smartass who has no idea what he's getting into.

Swallowing, you nod your head in agreement.

"Dumbass didn't even know who Silvio, Hammerhead, or Kingpin were; or even that his borough was being run by the Yakuza."

Truman blinks.

"...Wait, you've met him?"

You hum in confirmation.

"Both of us were in Queens swinging and hopping around at the same time and ended up crossing paths. Didn't I tell you? We met again after I convinced Silvio to join us and he pissed off Ren; also, he figured out I'm some kind of underworld player."

Marcus groans.

"Kojo, you fucking idiot."

>(2/2)

Clucking your tongue, you shoot him a look.

"Don't you give me that shit. He's a smart dipshit: the worst he can do is snark, quip, and bitch."

The second-in-command holds his hand out explanatory.

"Still, he's going to know what you're up to and will probably end up telling someone."

Leaning back on your chair, you scoop up another piece of flan to your mouth.

It could come back to bite you but it should be easy for you to take care of the kid. All you need to do is find out who he really is and who he loves. Guys his age can't keep their feelings to themselves or their dick in their pants, you know from experience. You'll kill him if you have to and if he can't be made to look the other way or work for you. Maybe he could join a superhero team of your own making.

"Think we should start our own hero team?"

Marcus blinks.

"What?"

You set down your spoon.

"Do you think we should start our own hero team?"

Truman raises an eyebrow.

"Sounds like too much of a hassle, why?"

Picking up your spoon, you take another scoop out of your gelatinous custard.

"It'd be the perfect cover. Practical megacorp tycoon from the streets is too suspicious and likely to raise eyebrows. If I start a superhero team or propose the idea of starting one, I'd look like an idealist trying to scrape the muck off society he was born in. That's more than enough to throw off any suspicion at first but actually implementing a superhero team will help stave off suspicion permanently. Only parts I'd have to hold up are my character and the team's heroic actions."

Your best friend hums.

"Doesn't sound too bad but you'll have to make a lot of effort to keep the team running and play the part of a dumbass idealist."

A pleased agreeing hum of your own rumbles in your throat as you put your steel spoon in your mouth.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions as they say, but you have none. Spouting bullshit will be hard but you'll laugh it off as everyone eats it up. Everything will be much better thanks to you and no one will know the truth. It's hilarious how easy it is to guide the masses by telling them what they want to hear.

>[ ] "So, what's your superhero name going to be?"
>[ ] "Whose your favorite superhero?"
>[ ] "Do you want some?"
>[ ] Eat the rest of your dessert, chocolate flaaan~
>[ ] Write In.

>>3337979
>>[X] "So, what's your superhero name going to be?"
>>[X] "Whose your favorite superhero?"
>>[X] Eat the rest of your dessert, chocolate flaaan~

>>3338047
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "So, what's your superhero name going to be?"
>[X] "Whose your favorite superhero?"
>[X] Eat the rest of your dessert, chocolate flaaan~

>(1/2)

Obviously, you didn't ask that question to not ask this question. He's going to be on your superhero team if you actually make one. No matter how much he protests, you're going to put him on it and give him a superhero name. Either he gives you what he wants to be called or you give him his superhero name or pick it anyway because whatever he comes up with is stupid. It'd annoy the fuck out of him.

You swallow, lick your lips, and grin.

"So, what's your superhero name going to be?"

Marcus furrows his brow.

"What?"

A chuckle escapes your lips.

"Your superhero name, what's it gonna be, man?"

Truman scoffs.

"I'm not going to be a superhero."

Once again, you laugh at your friend's foolishness.

"Whatever team I make, you are going to be on it at least once. Hell, I'll probably hop in from time to time if I don't join it officially, so pick a name."

Rapidly shaking his head, the young stubborn black man before you clucks his tongue.

"No. Fuck no! I'm not gonna be some negro in a cape calling himself Black Gun, Black .45, Black Stun, or just cut out the middle-man and go by Token Black!"

Shaking your head back, you erupt in laughter.

"That's why you don't want to be a superhero?!"

Marcus groans.

"One of many reasons. I could die, I could die for someone I don't really give a shit about, some supervillains might try to be my nemesis and fuck with me out of the suit if my identity is public, people will praise me as a role model for young black men, every week I'll have to deal with some bullshit, paparazzi would follow me around like mosquitoes, I could be the token black, and my superhero name would reflect that fact."

>(2/2)

Your laughter dies down.

"I'm letting you choose your own name, though. Besides, I wouldn't name you anything that retarded."

A sigh escapes your best friend's lips.

"...Beret, Delta Beret, Commando, Green Commando, SAA Commando, Snake Eater, or a mix of those; take your pick."

Blinking, your frown.

"You're honoring Dan."

Truman slowly nods.

"He was a real hero and would hate us for pulling this kind of bullshit."

You nod back and sigh.

Something tells you what his answer to your next question will be but he was never a 'super' hero.

"Whose your favorite superhero?"

Marcus raises an eyebrow.

"Ain't got none; what's with all the hero questions?"

Shrugging, you scoop up another piece of your flan.

"It's the subject at hand and we haven't ever really talked about it before." You put the steel spoon again into your mouth. "So who is it?"

Your best friend lets out another sigh.

"...Captain America."

A hum rumbles in your throat before you swallow.

"Because he was Dan's or because he fought in World War 2, which is the same reason he was the only one Dan liked."

Truman nods.

"Yeah, the rest are all the same to me."

Humming again, you look down at your half finished jiggly gelatinous custard treat.

It's the only sweet thing you actually like. Abuelita used to try to give you candies but stopped after she realized you didn't eat anything that had little to no nutritional value. You ate a flan she made for you one time out of curiosity and liked it.

Y͈̱o̠̙̻̱̠u̴̱̰ ̥f̭̹̠e̶͈͇̭͎̹̗̬ĺ̻̝͉͇t͉ ̻̳͔͈͙̻͞ͅw͖̟̭͇̙͡aŕm͎̝̖̙̦.̩̰͜

...

...

You blink before scooping up another piece and bringing it to your mouth.

The process repeats itself until only scraps of the sweet remains.

Looking up from your clean plates, you see Marcus staring at you with his own empty ones before him.

It looks like you're done here.

>[ ] "Manhattan is going to suck for the sheer amount of fancy ass restaurants it has in place of these level places."
>[ ] "...I think they'd be happy for us, but angry and sad that we lost our way or found one they hated."
>[ ] "Sorry I didn't save any for you, got caught up in old memories."
>[ ] Get up and walk out the door, this place is too coldw̝͙̦a͙͕̬̰rm̗͍̻͇.̝͙̙̤͞
>[ ] Take out your wallet and put down some money, it was worth it.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3338459
>[ ] "...I think they'd be happy for us, but angry and sad that we lost our way or found one they hated."
>[ ] "Sorry I didn't save any for you, got caught up in old memories."
>ask Marcus if he wants another one
If he doesn’t
>drop some bills down

File: 1520682419137.png (593 KB, 500x775)

593 KB PNG

>>3338459
this >>3338541
also
>"...Beret, Delta Beret, Commando, Green Commando, SAA Commando, Snake Eater, or a mix of those; take your pick."
>Snake Eater
Part of me is really tempted to go with this for him, but I like Delta Beret and Commando the most. Short, simple, serious.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...I think they'd be happy for us, but angry and sad that we lost our way or found one they hated."
>[X] "Sorry I didn't save any for you, got caught up in old memories."
>[X] "Do you want one?"
>[X] Take out your wallet and put down some money, it was worth it.

Neither Dan or Abuelita could hate either of you for what you've become: they're partly at fault. Wouldn't stop them from feeling sad, disappointed, or angry about it, though. Of course, they probably don't feel or will ever feel anything if Death ate them.

A sigh escapes your lips.

"...I think they'd be happy for us, but angry and sad that we lost our way or found one they hated."

Marcus nods.

"Sure...if they were still here."

Humming in solemn agreement, you look down at your plate of custard scraps and back up at your best friend.

"Sorry I didn't save any for you, got caught up in old memories."

Truman waves his hand dismissively.

"It's fine, I don't like sweet things anyway." He raises an eyebrow. "Neither do you usually."

A smirk creeps its way on to your face.

"Do you want one?"

Your best friend shakes his head.

"Nah, I'm good."

Shrugging, you take out your wallet and set down a twenty dollar bill on the table.

>Hard cash on person: $458

"Let's go then."

The two of you rise from your seats and make your way out the door.

You breathe in the fresh outside air.

Good early dinner but with a depressing ending.

>[ ] "Let's go meet my magic tutor, he can teach you while I perfect my advanced magics."
>[ ] "I think...I might have to go back to the alley."
>[ ] "Do you think you can walk home?"
>[ ] Take Marcus back home, you're done here.
>[ ] Why are y̢̳̱o̷u̵̼͕ so w̦̰̯̭͉a̡͔̳ͅr̸̜̤̟̠͔͓m̸͕̜̪̤̟c̨̹̩͉o̶̤̬͍l̴͓͓͙d̜̝̮?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3338817
>[ ] Why are y̢̳̱o̷u̵̼͕ so w̦̰̯̭͉a̡͔̳ͅr̸̜̤̟̠͔͓m̸͕̜̪̤̟c̨̹̩͉o̶̤̬͍l̴͓͓͙d̜̝̮?
>[ ] What do y̢̳̱o̷u̵̼͕ think of Marcus still?
Before we decide to go home, go to the alley, or what

>>3338833
Ditto

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) before class.

How you guys doin' and watcha thinkin'?

>>3338875
Not much, just chilling. Can’t wait till we surrender ourselves then work with Daredevil to free us, I think we have a reasonable chance due to our bonuses and how DD almost got Castle off until he shot himself in the foot

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Why are y̢̳̱o̷u̵̼͕ so w̦̰̯̭͉a̡͔̳ͅr̸̜̤̟̠͔͓m̸͕̜̪̤̟c̨̹̩͉o̶̤̬͍l̴͓͓͙d̜̝̮?
>[X] What do y̢̳̱o̷u̵̼͕ think of Marcus still?

If you didn't get any answers back near the river, you're going to get some here at least. It can't just keep scurrying off like a rat back to the darkest corners of your mind. You want to hear whatever he has to say and why.

Why are y̢̳̱o̷u̵̼͕ so w̦̰̯̭͉a̡͔̳ͅr̸̜̤̟̠͔͓m̸͕̜̪̤̟c̨̹̩͉o̶̤̬͍l̴͓͓͙d̜̝̮?

The world around you stops.

.͇̯̪̩͕͢.̙̟͚̬͝.̩͇̭̘̰͕̱I̥̪̭̱͈͡ ̥d̖̳o̴͓̹͔̝͓̪ ̧͖̜ͅn͈͉̘͈̼̗̝͘o̹͖͙͍t̨̯ ͝k̵ń̹̺̙̤̠o̢w̫̞.̶̙

You furrow your brow and look around you at the stillness.

Just what exactly did you do?

N̝͘o͙̼͚̜̳̫̖͘t͘h̰͉̖̭i͔̤ͅn̻g͈͉͞.

A growl rumbles in your throat.

Do you really expect me to believe that?

I̵͖̥̤͓̙̹ ̸d̗̳͍͖̟̥͠ͅó̝̫͕ ̫̤ń͎̥̺̼̳ͅo̫͚̦͚̫͜t͍͈͔̦̫̰̗ ̵̩̫̳è̟̠̖̪͍͙x͔͎̟͇̕p͚͓̱̪e͇̹̦c͇̹̙̦͓͞t̬̫ a͇̬̕n̦̗̣̰͓͕̼̕y͎̣̖͚̪̞͉͞t͚̟̼̘̞h̰i̮̱̱ņg̦̹͇͓͔͡ ̛̯͈͍͈o̪̮̘ͅṷ͇̮̞̱͝t̥̰ ̹̥̙͡o̞̟̭͔̖̕f̙̱̰͔ ͖̞y̸̗̘̤̞̹̻̝o̥̰̙̜̮̹u̳͉͕̻̗͔.͉͔̯̳͠

You let out a sigh.

What do y̢̳̱o̷u̵̼͕ think of Marcus still?

The world moves again.

H̷̱͕̜͔̫̳e̕ ͓̮̜͠ẁa̖̭͢s͉̻̭̥͈̰͞ͅ ̞̬̬͕͕̝̣͢ą͎̗̫̣ ̛͈̳̹̤̰m̡̝̻̘͖̟e̴͈̜̦̱͍̞ạ͖̟͖͉n̘̩̘̮͙̪͘s ͚͇̣̝̣͔́t̘̖o̢̯̳̼͇͙̳̼ ͍͙͍̱̘̘a̛n̻̪̪ͅ e̙̳̱̗n̴̞d͓̕ͅ ͙̫͡a̹̻n̥̳̹̰̱̩d̴ ͓͕̜̜̗̳́o̘̩̭̩͉͢f̢̹̺ ͇̻g̹̠̝͇r͉͔͡e̫͚͕a̪͔̯̰̺t̮̱̗e̶r̠̞̭͝ ̖̣̜͘u̱̟͙̦̦̘͘ͅś̼ę̺̦̥̹̭ ̢̰̰̭̰̱̩n̯̼̬͚̘̥̙o̼̻̰w̦̯̺̥̩̤̹͡ ̭͖͉̭͖̺̕ͅth͇a̷n̙͘ ̸̝̳̙̯̞̘h͇̬̗͔̦̕e͇̞͖͡ ̵͍̫̟̳̙͍̩ȩv̯̞͉̻͚̭̳͞e͇r̨̫̤ ̗͎̥͚̤͙͓͝w̛͙͙͎̯̮̣a̪̭͎̩͔s̯͖ ͉͜t̞͈̭h̢͓e̶n̸.̟

"Kojo?"

Blinking, you turn to the worried face of your best friend.

"Yeah, Marcus?"

The man furrows his brow.

"Is something up? You've been standing there for about a minute now."

You widen your eyes ever so slightly before waving it off.

"Just thinking about things, that's all."

A low hum vibrates out of the man's throat.

He obviously didn't exactly buy that but he's not in the prying mood.

>[ ] "Let's go meet my magic tutor, he can teach you while I perfect my advanced magics."
>[ ] "I think...I might have to go back to the alley."
>[ ] "Do you think you can walk home?"
>[ ] Take Marcus back home, you're done here.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3339787
>[ ] "I think...I might have to go back to the alley."
No way out but through

Voting closed; writing now.

Going to go to class soon. Will finish writing and update when I get back.

>[X] "I think...I might have to go back to the alley."

You can only solve this fucked up phantom of your past through looking back into the abyss. It's not going to be easy but nothing ever is. Even then, there's no guarantee you'll be rid of it: the echo is you, after all.

A sigh escapes your lips.

"I think...I might have to go back to the alley."

Marcus raises an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

Slowly nodding, you turn to the direction of your first home.

"There are answers I think I can get there."

You feel a hand lay itself on your shoulder.

"I'm here if you need me."

Letting out a small laugh, you turn back and wrap an arm around Marcus' waist.

"Knowing me, I probably will for once."

A back-flip takes you to the roof of the small restaurant and a hop sends you off to your broken asylum.

It takes you just a few seconds to land in front of the crevice between two buildings you spent most of your life in.

You let go of Marcus and take a step inside, blocking the cavern.

An ever so familiar sensation of emptiness flows over your form.

"...Stay out here; I'll call out to you if I need you."

One confirming hum rumbles at a pleasant volume behind you as you walk inside.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Z0S2h9aiFk

With every footstep you take, the hollow feeling deepens and sinks into your being. You raise a hand to your chest and dig your fingers into the flesh beneath your shirt, embedding the digits in-between your ribs.

You're far too used to pain for it to do anything against the emptiness.

A sickening squelch echoes throughout the alley as you pull your fingers out, splashing blood against the cracked mirror.

Glancing at the old looking glass, you see the familiar blood-stained face of your younger self staring back at you.

...

...

...

>[ ] "...Nothing could ever hurt you. There was nothing to hurt: you were already dead on the inside."
>[ ] "...You died a long time ago; why can't you let go?"
>[ ] "...I don't need you anymore."
>[ ] "...Just what do you want?"
>[ ] "...Why?"
>[ ] "..."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3340517
>[ ] "...Why?"
>[ ] "...Just what do you want?"
>[ ] "...Nothing could ever hurt you. There was nothing to hurt: you were already dead on the inside. So why all this?"

>>3340670
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...Why?"
>[X] "...Just what do you want?"
>[X] "...Nothing could ever hurt you. There was nothing to hurt: you were already dead on the inside. So why all this?"

>(1/2)

There's a lot of things you want to ask and a lot of things you could say. For now, you'll just ask to spare yourself the headache. Answers are what you need, not any more questions.

You let out a sigh.

"...Why?"

Like a puppet on loose strings, the mirror image of your old self gives a half-hearted shrug.

"̻I̮͝ ̣̮̳̞̮̣ạ́m̯͓̦ ̵j͍̬ͅu̯̱̻̱ͅs̳̠͉̪͝t͜ ̡a͇̰̥̮͎ͅș͔̕ ͕̞͠u̩̳͙͢n̡̰̗s̰̺̗̯̟͞ṳ̩r͔ͅe̯̳͎ à̤͎͇̠s̟͟ ͇͇̦̥̦͓ͅy̼̭̯o̢̜u͔̦̱͎̯̣̰.̴
̳
A cluck echoes throughout the alley from your tongue.

Never with an answer; always with the questions.

"...Just what do you want?"

The old you drops its head to the side in an unbalanced tilt.

"͉̝͖I̴̤ ͚h̷͔̩͈̘̫a̭̯v̞e͓͚̰ n̺̠e͚͍̫͉̰̭͝ve̮͎̟͈͖ͅr ̸̗̯̱̭w̹̻aͅn̠t͖̤̖͉̹e͕̞͚̳̩̣dͅ ̙͕̣a̳̯̪̞͖͚n̹̫͚̣̕y̳̰t̖h̡͚̠̘̠̭̪i̝̻̱̩̗n̤̘̘̪̥͎g̪͚̙̜͇ ̥̬̹̬͝o͇̩̕r͚̟̥̺̬͜ ̰͔͜a̗͜t̛̘̩͔̳̖̗̺ ̷̫̥̦͈̥l̘͜e̫̜͖a̮̼s̬̺̠̠̖̰̻̕t̖͈̥̬ ̵͉͎̺̟c̵͈a̟̼̘̖͎͇n̴̼̺̠͇̘͕ ̘̣̮́n̰̖o̷͎̹̝̬t̵̹͉̖͎̭ ̹̹̫͉ͅr̷e̙̞̥m̺͍͕̻̱e̼̳̦͡m̸̪͓͔̝͉b̟̱͎̤̱̙e̸̖̰͓̘͍̞ͅr̟̦̝̞ ͈̗̺͈͎ͅw̟̘̙a͚̟̰̺̦̠̠n̢̼̣̬͚̱̞ṱ̮́in̪̥͜g̻͖̦̕ ̖͖͍a͓͔ṇ̬y̴͓͙̪̹ͅt̫̟͉̘͈̪ͅh͠i̬n̝̫̝̦̘̻͕g̱̠̟̰̤.̶̹͚͓̩̘ ͚̮̪A͇̗̩̗͔̪l̛l̪͕̫̤̬̙͓ ̷̰̺I̛̥͔̖̟̟̮̦ ͙̱̗͙̘ḥ̺̰̹̦a̩͔̗̤̩v̩̫͢ͅe͚̝ ̛n̻̙̝̟͓͔͘o̢̩̳͖w̡͎̥̙̹̮̝ ̵̙̭̻̹͉̺ạ̜͈r͉̫̦e̫͉̳͚̮͠ ̖̜͚̳q͎͙͠ú͖̝͓̤̱̝e̫͖͇ş͍̹̳͖̗̪t̰͝i͓̟̰͕̝o̥͇̯̜n̨͕̤ͅs̖͚̞̙͈̞͡ ̙y̙̯̙ơ̩u̝ͅ ̢͔͔̫̟c̖̙͈͜a̴͎̜̫n̵̮̻͕n̖̳̼o̥͓̳͇̹ṯ̞͜ ̷an̻s̶w̦̤͈e̮͙̹̺r̛͓̩ ̸̺f͍ọ̳r͜ ͟m͙̻͎̤̦e͙̙͔̮ ̴͎̥j̥̮̟̫ų̳̘͉͍șt͚̖ ̜͉͓̬͓̼̗͟a̰͙̹̩͇̙̖s̸͍ ̖͝y̙͈̜o͖̙̪̥͝u̧̺͍ ́h̰̹͚̗͚a̢̳̟v̝͖̙̩̰̦e̸̻̫͖͎ ̻q͘u̘͇̰̫͢e̖̤ṣ͓̜̮̭͉̯t͎͇̱͇i̭̼͙̘̯̪ọ̬͖͎̙̘͢ṇ̶̪̹̝̮̹̦s̜̪͓̬͢ ̟̗I̻͖̯͕ ͔̩̜̬͉̳̟c̦͝ͅa͇̞͕̪̳͡n͎no̘t͍͕ ͓̪͎̣̻͕a̼ǹ͍̟̩̣̬̭ś͓w̭e̜̙̖̦͚̼͖r̠̟͔͘ ̨͕̮f̣o̜̩̥r͎͉̙ ̟͠y͚̹̫͔͜ͅo͚̞͔̣̩̳u̯͝.̖̯̥̣̬̥͝"͉͖

>(2/2)

A low menacing growl grumbles in your throat, reverberating through the alleyway.

You are starting to get on your own deadened nerves.

Taking a deep breath, you let out another sigh.

"...Nothing could ever hurt you. There was nothing to hurt: you were already dead on the inside. So why all this?"

It un-tilts its head to stare into your slitted red-on-black eyes with its dull, dark brown.

"E͙̖͕x̛̹̙a̷̤̺̯c̥͓̥̳̳t̨̫͍l̯͕̻̥y.̪ ̥̟̻̝̝͈W̺͖̳̞̝̺̘h͖͎̭y̤̗̠̩̻?͙̱̩̻̩͟ͅ ̣̯́W̸͍͉͕̞h̰̞̘̤̯̱̕ỳ̬̖̤ ͍̻a̴̼̠͔̰͖͍r̟̞e̢̹͇̟̹͈ ̨̱͉̹͖̹ͅy̶͓͕̠̼͚o̙ư ̰͍a̗n̼͚̭̤̣ͅḏ͕̱͢ ͔̙̙Í̭̮̱̯̠̺ h͝e̬̠̤͡r͓̪̥̬e͈?̻̠͍ ̩͔̮W̘͉̗h̠͎̫͜y̘͉͇̞̟̬͟ͅ ̭̙̩̰̝̯d͖̝̜̣͔o ̳w̘e͜ ͎̫e̖̘̞̟̹̥ͅx̣̖̫̩͢i̛̩̙̗̞̝͚ş̻̯t̨̺?̤͕͍͕͖͍ ͕̪ͅW̗̥̘͜h̜͚͚͓͠a̛̯̱̞͕̪ͅt̬̱̟͚̹̩̞ ̴̮̱̼͎̖̟i̡̫̭͉͇̭s͈̝̰͇̗̦̭ ̯t͈̗̬͕̞̱̣h̘̠͉̙̠̳e̖͇͎͈̼̞ ̟̭p̸o̖̣͕̹̫̥̕i̵̹̱̞̬͚̩͚n̜͔t̳̞͍? ̳T͇̩̭͓̙̩ͅh͟e̪̣̺͓͖̭s̮͙̭̟͔͓̦e͙ ̬̥́a̬͢r̻̖̹̠e̩̞ ̻͘t͚͓͚͓̫͚̕h̫̖̰̻͈̙e͖̫ͅ ̪q͕̖u̝͉e̡̞͓̤̳̪̠s̹̯̖̩̥̥t͎͜i͓̝̘̙͕̮̦on̰̮͓͔͠s̭ͅ ̤̱͚͜w̸̙̦̬̮e ̹̣̣͇̜͝h̼͠o̵̪͔ḷ̯͔̭d͍̬̩͍͟ ̼̥̕y̳͇̩͎͔͟e̖̯͖̘̱t̵͓̳̦͚ h̫a͞v̭̹͎͙̳̯e̵ ̷n̠̻̖̟͕͔o̹̙ ̸͇̙̻a͕̟̖̯n̳̗͇̭͚̳̞͝s̢̘̦͇̱͖̹w̪̙̤͚e̡̥͙͍̥̯̦r̢ͅs͉͚͝ ̥̻͓̳͍t͔̱͖̞͞o̶̻̙͎.̛ ̶̮̥̬̼"

Once again, you dig your fingers into your chest as the emptiness in you deepens.

None of those questions have a concrete answer...yet.

>[ ] "...I...I never really questioned this but...why did you want to live so much back then? There was...no point to it: life was nothing but pain and suffering but you didn't know that, so...why did you bother doing anything at all to keep yourself alive?" (Will Roll, +6 modifier, DC18)
>[ ] "...So if I get the answers, will you go away?"
>[ ] "...Does any of this really matter to you?"
>[ ] "...I don't need you anymore."
>[ ] "..."
>[ ] Turn and leave, you won't gain any progress by talking to your old self: he's just as lost as you are.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3341186
>[ ] "...So if I get the answers, will you go away? Will you feel at least a little better?"
>[ ] "...I...I never really questioned this but... why did you want to live so much back then? There was... no point to it: life was nothing but pain and suffering but you didn't know that, so... why did you bother doing anything at all to keep yourself alive?" (Will Roll, +6 modifier, DC18)

>>3341211
Ditto

Getting late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) before class if I manage to have time.

How are you all today and watcha thinking?

>>3341450
I'm thinking Kojo might need Marcus for this one.

>Will Roll
>+6 Modifier
>DC18
Best out of the first three d20s please.

Rolled 11 + 6 (1d20 + 6)

>>3342891

Rolled 17 + 6 (1d20 + 6)

>>3342891
Rolling again if that's alright

>>3342940
It's fine. Anyone want to go for a crit or stay with what you have?

>>3343029
I ain't risking a critfail nigga

Rolling closed; writing now.

>[X] "...So if I get the answers, will you go away? Will you feel at least a little better?"
>[X] "...I...I never really questioned this but... why did you want to live so much back then? There was... no point to it: life was nothing but pain and suffering but you didn't know that, so... why did you bother doing anything at all to keep yourself alive?" (Will Roll, +6 modifier, DC18)
>Will Roll
>+6 Modifier
>DC18
>Rolled 17 + 6 = 23
>Success!

>(1/2)

All the old you has are questions everyone wants answers to at some point in their life. They're questions with no right or wrong solutions and can go without any for the rest of someone's life. You as who you are now can go on now without any while the old you remains because. It's very much possible it will fade away if given an appropriate answer.

For the umpteenth time, you let out a sigh.

"...So if I get the answers, will you go away? Will you feel at least a little better?"

The young reflection of yourself once again drops its head to the side in an unbalanced tilt.

"F̨ee̫̞̦l̹͙̱̼̩͝ ̺̭b̵͖e̘t̳̦̳̮t̺̘͕͉̯̙ȩ͚͉̻r̤͔̣̼̹͓?̶̫͎̯ ͍͔̥͎̟I̟͍̳ ͇̬͓̬ḍ̟ǫ͈n̙̼͓̺͓͈͝'͟t͍͓́ ̸̝̱͚̯͓̰ưn͈̬d̦̹̹e̴̯̮͍͇͚̖͚rs͈̟̻̘͢ț̳̻͝a͓͚̦̠̤͖n̢̥d̜̻͖̯̤̼ ̟̘̹o̯̺̘͈̥͓͟r̷̯͔̗͎̹̳ ͎̹̮̳̹k͎͉̯͕n͈̬̠̮̘̩o͙̹͙̙w̢̞ w̘̮̠̝̹̙h̳͙̮͕̰̱̫a̢̜͍t͖̗͞ ͖͖͖̙͡t̷̠͈h̖͈̤̩̖͉̝͠a̫t̢̺ ̡ḿ̘̳̙͉̳e͇͕͖͇͔a̧̬̜͔͙͙̱ņ̮͔̜̜s̗̯͈̱̠ ̱̗o͕͖̭͍͘r̹͎ ̞̹̯̩͇̀i̦͖̖̖͓ͅs̖͎̞͔͢.̨̤͉̫ ̴̟̥̯̫̺N̹͓̭̳ę̠̯i̯͉͙t̼̺̳̹̩̹̫h̩͖̰̞͇̝͔e̝̪̻͕͚ṛ͍̬͞ͅ ͚͝d͍̖̖̺̠͍o̠̤̮͇̠͕̮ ̻͙͎͓I̧̠̮͕̥̬ ̯̟̪͔k̦̞̫̯̥ͅn͉͓͎o͖͈͈͉͈w̸͇̩ ̶ḭ͔͓̼͕f ͓I̴ͅ'̶̝̤̫̝͚̜̠l͚͟l̷͓̳̦̝ ͍̥͍̤͔ce̜̱̭̱͇̠a̞̥̪̙͕͎s͙̗̮͍̯e͓͍͓̬ ̮̻͇̗́t̬̥̦̱̠̦o̢̪͇̮̘ ͓͉̼̖͠e̠x̻̗is̖͈̰͘t̠͙̥.͎̝"

You stare deep into your old dull dark brown eyes.

No sadness, no happiness, no anger, no excitement, no disgust, no fear, no shame, and no interest whatsoever gleam in his gaze. His gestures and body language are nothing more than a crude imitation of which he cannot understand. All he could possibly feel is what his senses process and, even then, most of those have turned numb from abuse. One could dislocate his arms and all he would feel is the loss of control in his limbs.

Even so, he carried on through his empty existence. Dozens if not hundreds died for him to continue living. This alley was stained in blood, he was stained with blood, and all he could dream of was the sea of blood with the bodies of all he had killed floating on it and the cliff above. No matter how many times he tried to stack the bodies, all he did was add more blood to the ocean.

>(2/2)

It took far too long but the emptiness was filled and he made his way over the cliff with the bodies of the two people who were the closest things he ever had to parents.

He didn't know where his path was leading or ever cared for anything, so for what possible reason would he have to carry on until you could be?

"...I...I never really questioned this but...why did you want to live so much back then? There was...no point to it: life was nothing but pain and suffering but you didn't know that, so...why did you bother doing anything at all to keep yourself alive?"

The old you un-tilts its head to gaze directly into your eyes again.

"...̴I̛ d̀o͞n'͠t k̕n̛ǫw͠. ̛W̵h̶e͜neve̛r͡ ̧someone ̢tri̧e͝d ̨to hurt ̕me, I͟ jus͡t k̀ill̵ed ̀the͢m. ̧W͘h͝ene͝v̷e͡r ̸I saw ̧an͘o̷t͠h͞e̕r ̷s͜tr̶ee͟t͜ r͜at ẃith ̧fo̡o̷d ͠wh̷en͞ I͘ had non̨e,͞ I ki͡ll͘ȩd͟ the̶m. ̕Wh̡enever̶ a ne̶w ̢gàn͡g ͝sprouted up ͠i̕n ̀t̛h̡e ̕n͡e̸ig̨h́bo͢rh͟o͘òd f͠rom ͟th̀e ̡ŕe̷m͢aìns of ̴th̕e̢ p͡r̴e͟v͟i͠ou͜s o̵ne̛ I̸ ̀kill͜ed̷, ͢Í kil͠le͝d̵ t̢hem. It̷ a̴ll ͢came..̡.n̢at͟u̢ra͟llỳ tơ m͡e. For ̡w͘h͜at̸e͡ver reas̸o͢n,̸ ́th͢``erę w͜as ͘sométh̶ìn͜g̛ ͘ínsi͡dè ͞me̢ th͘a̢t̨ ̧d̴įd͝n't want̶ t͘o ̶die g̷reate̶r̸ ̷ţh̴a͞n ̶m͞y̨ i͞n̕abilit̛y to͝ ̷car̴e."

You take in a deep breath and breathe out.

"...I don't understand how that's even possible for....something like you."

It raises an odd eyebrow high.

"W̛͇̜̞̤͓͔̺ẖ̜͎͇̫̬͞y̪͉̻͚ ͓̘͍a͉͜ṟ̖̬̙̝ͅe̟̭̼̭͕͘ ͞y̴̻̟ou̷͔̱̼̙ ̧̦̟̼͇̘̞c͖̹͍̘̘͚̩͟r͍̬̰y͙͎̳̤̺i͖̝̙̦͝ͅn̷̩̥̗̼̬g?̪̹͖"

Blinking, the old remnant disappears, leaving you with a more accurate reflection of your handsome tear streaked cheeked face and your big warm & wet red-on-black slitted eyes.

You fall back on to the not quite as ruined brick wall and slowly drag down to the floor, finishing your descent in a seated position.

"I don't understand that either."

Echoing footsteps from the entrance turn your attention to it and your worried-looking best friend.

"You okay, Kojo?"

A final sigh escapes your lips.

The answer to that question is far too obvious.

>[ ] "Let's just go, this is something I can't handle right now for once."
>[ ] "...Do you think...maybe I should've died back then?"
>[ ] "No, not in any sense or meaning of the word."
>[ ] "...How much of that did you hear?"
>[ ] "Do I look okay?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3343451
>[ ] "...How much of that did you hear?"
>[ ] "...Do you think... maybe I should've stayed dead back then?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...How much of that did you hear?"
>[X] "...Do you think... maybe I should've stayed dead back then?"

He probably thinks whatever is going on is even crazier than he thought it'd be and that you're insane. Both thoughts have a lot of truth to them right now and you have little desire to rebuke them. All you want to hear is his voice and a truthful answer to a vital question.

"...How much of that did you hear?"

Marcus walks over to your side, lays a hand on your shoulder, and sits down.

"All of it; you were talking to yourself."

You turn to him and nod.

"Sure, you could say that."

The man sighs.

"I'm not going to pretend I have any fucking idea what's going on or what goes on with you in general, but you need to talk to me more about it or anyone else in our crew that's not a footsoldier or named Cuda or named Alex."

Laughing, you crane your head back to gaze at the cracked mirror wall.

"...Do you think...maybe I should've stayed dead back then?"

Silence fills the air.

Marcus' blue eyes are wide and his mouth somewhat open as you turn back to face him.

"What the fuck are you talking about? Things would be much worse here without you. Believe it or not, the shit we've done has actually helped people. I fucking walked into a Latino restaurant, spoke Spanish, and ate inside the place. Sure, you were with me, but, if you weren't, I would've gotten jumped by some Dominican shit head if you died."

You frown.

"Dan and Abuelita would still be alive."

Truman blinks, lowers his head for a moment, and raises it back up to face you.

"Kojo, don't blame yourself for that. What's done is done but they would've wanted you to move on. If you keep holding on to the past like this, it's going to kill you on the inside. Just accept it for what it is and let go."

Lowering your head, you turn back to the direction of the wrecked wall.

"...I don't know how to and...I can't; not yet, at least."

Marcus pats your shoulder and rises.

"As long as you're stuck in here, you can't. Come on, get up. Let's go back to the warehouse, the day's not over yet."

You raise your head and see Marcus' face somewhat glowing with the afternoon sky above him.

He's too good of a person to care so much about you.

>[ ] "...Can you walk home? I forgot something I need to actually check-up on and it is a he who drives zebra-print shit cars."
>[ ] "...Let's go to Strange, we can learn magic together there and maybe fix my fucked up head."
>[ ] "...Go, you know the way. I need to stay here for a while."
>[ ] "...Alright, I'm coming, Mr. Sunshine."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3344028
>you should walk him, I’ve gotta go slap a pimp up

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8). Got night class tomorrow so expect a lesser amount of updates than usual.

How are you all today and what are you guys thinking?

>>3344028
>Hug your brother. Love might not be real, but appreciation is.
>[ ] "...Can you walk home? I forgot something I need to actually check-up on and it is a he who drives zebra-print shit cars."

>>3344066
I'm thinking maybe when Old Kojo is accepted that current Kojo can reach full power. Either that or with gitting gud later on.

Also, asparagus is one of the godly vegetables.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Hug Marcus, appreciation is real while love is not.
>[X] "...Can you walk home? I forgot something I need to actually check-up on and it is a he who drives zebra-print shit cars."

Really, you don't deserve a great friend anywhere near as good as him. There's little you could ever repay him with and nothing you can think of that possibly can. You would be more than happy to go home with him but you have other unfinished business to check-up on and possibly finish yourself.

You stand yourself up and hug your best friend.

"Thank you."

Marcus hugs you back and laughs.

"It's nothing you wouldn't have done for me, let's be real."

Both of you hold one another in each other's embrace for a few more seconds before letting go.

For the umpteenth time, you let out a sigh.

"...Can you walk home? I forgot something I need to actually check-up on and it is a he who drives zebra-print shit cars."

Truman blinks before shooting you a look.

"Mr. Hops can get to anywhere in the city in minutes and the local area in seconds, but he's telling me to walk home?"

You blink back.

"...Oh right, I forgot I can do that for a second."

Marcus rolls his eyes as you wrap an arm around his waist.

"For the smartest guy I know, you sure can be a fucking ditz."

A groan escapes your lips as you hop out of the alley.

"Way to ruin the moment."

The man you call your best friend lets out a shaky scoff while you take off back to the warehouse.

"You ruined the moment."

It takes you just a few seconds to land in front of the warehouse.

Letting go of the second-in-command, you hop to the roof of your base.

"We both ruined the moment!"

Marcus collects himself and shoots you another look before you take off.

"You ruined it!"

Streaking through the air above the man's head, you glance down at him from the corner of your eye.

"Okay, I did!"

You turn your attention back to the cityscape.

A few minutes of rooftop hopping take you to the top of Zebra Daddy's real place.

Hopping down in front of his front door, you give heavy knocks to the weak wood, leaving small dents.

The door opens some minutes later to reveal Zebra Daddy in one of his purple suits with a hand behind his back.

Shitty Zebra Man blinks at the sight of your magnificence.

"Oh shit, it's you."

With a hum, you nod.

The man's looking awfully guilty for someone who was supposed to do his job.

>[ ] "Put down that gun you're holding behind your back, it won't do a thing to me."
>[ ] "Set a meeting with the pimps, I need to have a talk with them."
>[ ] "Hey what's up, fuck face? How's it going?"
>[ ] "Did you do what I asked?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3345026
>[ ] "Oh shit. It's me."
>[ ] "Put down that gun you're holding behind your back, it won't do a thing to me."
>[ ] "So how's it going? What's the news on Pineapple and Sha-whatshisname?"

Going to class will close voting and update when I get back.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Oh shit, it's me."
>[X] "Put down that gun you're holding behind your back, it won't do a thing to me."
>[X] "So how's it going? What's the news on Pineapple and Sha-whatshisname?"

Flaunting your superiority always does wonders for your mood. Marcus already cheered you up but you're nowhere near the levels of sadistic joyful crime lord you were at a while ago. Zebra Daddy can help you with that. Killing him wll also make you feel a lot better if he fucked up.

A grin spreads across your face.

"Oh shit, it's me."

The pimp stumbles back as you take a step forward.

"Uh! Hey, boss!" He holds out his free hand to the side in greeting. "Welcome back to my crib!" Dropping his arm back to his side, he laughs nervously. "How can I, uh, help you?"

You shoot the man a look.

"Put down that gun you're holding behind your back, it won't do a thing to me."

Immediately, a zebra striped M1911 drops to the ground below Zebra Daddy.

You blink, look down at the gun, look back up at its owner, look back down at the gun, and back up at the pimp one last time.

His taste for design and fashion is quite possibly the worst you've ever seen in your entire life.

A sigh escapes your lips.

"So, how's it going? What's the news on Pineapple and Sha-whatshisname?"

Zebra blinks.

"Her name's Shaniquea and they cool."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Cool with me, cool with you, cool in temperament, or just plain old cool?"

The man lets out another nervous laugh.

"Th-th-they cool, boss!"

A frown forms from the wideness of your grin.

He didn't break them.

>[ ] "Tell me where they are and I'll handle it, like I should've done from the beginning."
>[ ] "Set a meeting with all the pimps and I mean all of them."
>[ ] "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."
>[ ] Rip the man's throat out, he's of no use to you.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3345894
>[ ] Lean in reaaaaaaaaal close.
>[ ] "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't flay your zebra-striped ass and turn it into a whore's handbag."

Night class coming up. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

How are you all today and what are you thinking?

>>3345986
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Lean in reaaaaaaaaal close.
>[X] "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't flay your zebra-striped ass and turn it into a whore's handbag."

Douche-bag teen fiddler man is very much deserving of a cruel and unusual yet appropriate agonizing punishment right now. However, you are a benevolent criminal overlord, so you'll give him a chance to reason with you. Chicken shit will fail no doubt, though. You're certain of that.

Leaning in very close to the fuckhead's face, you grab on to his collar and glare into his eyes.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't flay your zebra-striped ass and turn it into a whore's handbag."

Zebra Daddy holds up his hands.

"Human skin makes for some shitty and weak leather!"

You blink.

"I'm surprised you know that."

The pimp delves into a fit of nervous laughter.

"Well, I am a pimp who enjoys his fine things and documentaries!"

Sighing, you shake your head.

"Guess I'll just have to make you into a mini handbag."

Zebra rapidly shakes his head and his hands.

"Wait, wait, wait! I can give you any girl you'd like! I pick up hot, ripe young pussy all the time! Just let me move to Manhattan, ain't no one gonna be coming to fuck my girls now that the big shot's dead! There, I can earn you mad bank!"

Raising a scrutinizing eyebrow, you scoff.

All he wants is to further his own business.

>[ ] "Tell me where they are and I'll handle it, like I should've done from the beginning."
>[ ] "You're terrible at begging for your life, you know that right?"
>[ ] "Set a meeting with all the pimps and I mean all of them."
>[ ] Rip his throat out, he's of no use to you.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3347759
>[ ] "Tell me where they are and I'll handle it, like I should've done from the beginning."

>>3347935
Ditto

Back from class.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Tell me where they are and I'll handle it, like I should've done from the beginning."

Killing the waste of space can wait a couple of seconds. You need to know where that dumb shit Pineapple is and where that stupidly named bitch is. After you know where they are, you'll decide whether to off this motherfucker or let him go with an increased tax on his business.

A growl rumbles in your throat.

"Tell me where they are and I'll handle it, like I should've done from the beginning."

Zebra Daddy begins to rapidly nod his head.

"Okay, okay, okay! Pineapple is lying low at the Umbrella Hotel over in Melrose and Shaniquea's place is somewhere in Morris Park, that's all I know!"

You snarl.

"Where in Melrose and where do you think that bitch is in Morris Park?"

The pimp trembles in your grasp.

"On the right edge just by University Heights and I don't know where in Morris Park!"

Pulling the man toward you, you change your hold from his collar to the buttons of his suit and send him on his back with a flick of your wrist.

"Now, where were we?"

An ever so familiar spilling sound rings through the air as the crotch of the man's pants dampens.

You raise a hand over your mouth to muffle a laugh while pimp looks down at himself in shame.

This happens way less often than it should with your victims but it may be better to let the zebra striped dumbass live with the shame and an extra tax on his business.

>[ ] "When I get back from dealing with those two malcontents, I'll decide on how to handle you."
>[ ] "I'll let you live with the shame of knowing you, an adult pimp man, pissed his pants."
>[ ] "You pay twenty percent extra now, you hear?"
>[ ] Step out and take off to Morris Park, harder so its better to get out the way first.
>[ ] Put him out of his misery, you're doing him a favor.
>[ ] Walk out and take off to Melrose, its closer.
>[ ] Write In.

Forgive the wait, got distracted again.

>>3348646
>[ ] "I'll let you live with the shame of knowing you, an adult pimp man, pissed his pants."
>[ ] "You pay twenty percent extra now, you hear?"
>[ ] Step out and take off to Morris Park, harder so its better to get out the way first.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "I'll let you live with the shame of knowing you, an adult pimp man, pissed his pants."
>[X] "You pay twenty percent extra now, you hear?"
>[X] Step out and take off to Morris Park, harder so its better to get out the way first.

Offing him is just going to lead to more troubles with the remaining pimps. He's going to be bringing you even more money from now on anyway. The idiot gave you the perfect excuse to tax him even more. You may as well take care of the hard one first before moving on to the easy one.

Sliding your hand off your mouth, you let out an unrestrained laugh.

"I'll let you live with the shame of knowing you, an adult pimp man, pissed his pants."

The pimp sighs.

"...Honestly, I would prefer death."

You shrug.

"Alright, that can be arranged."

Zebra Daddy raises his hands up and waves them as you begin to move on him again.

"Wait, wait, wait! That was a joke, I don't wanna die!"

Stepping back, you cluck your tongue.

"You pay twenty percent extra now, you hear?"

Pisses-His-Pants lets out a cry of disbelief.

"Oh come on, man!"

You shoot the man a look as you step back.

"Hey, you brought this on yourself."

Turning around, you walk out the door and back-flip on to the roof of the pimp's place.

A small spin points you in the direction of Morris Park and a hop sees you off.

It takes you a few minutes to land yourself on a building in the middle of your first target's neighborhood.

You don't have a face, a precise location, or even intel if she's here right now but those three difficulties have never stopped you before.

>[ ] Sniff the air, some hookers might be able to tell you where she usually is.
>[ ] Shut your material eyes and vision beam like you did to find Zebra Daddy.
>[ ] Close your material eyes and flow out into the world through your third.
>[ ] Hop around, really expand your sense range.
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8).

>>3349136
>SNIFF
>EYES- BEAM

>>3349136
this >>3350645

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Sniff the air, some hookers might be able to tell you where she usually is.
>[X] Shut your material eyes and vision beam like you did to find Zebra Daddy.

As usual, you will use every sense spiritual or material to get a simple glimpse of who your target might be. The soul eye vision beam you picked up earlier could be more useful for this seeing as how you have a range of the area where you should investigate. Smell is also more useful than your third eye in some way in these situations.

You close all three of your eyes, fall down on your hands and feet, and take in the surrounding air through your nose.

The scent of sex is vague yet lingers in the air from somewhere far to the south of you.

Humming, you turn around and open your third eye.

That which is you flows out into the world not in a globe but a wide cone.

A greater than average amount of whores are in a building with no windows, armed guards, many rooms with mood setting furnishings, and bondage equipment getting fucked or waiting to be.

You open your eyes and groan.

If what's-her-name is here, she's probably in there or you can find out where she could be in there.

Still doesn't mean there might be other places you could find traces of her.

Turning in another direction, you close your eyes and flow out through your third in a cone again.

You repeat the process until you have fully scouted out the entire neighborhood and then some.

Opening your eyes, you let out another groan.

Four whorehouses in total are in this neighborhood but none of them have a clear leader except for the bottom bitch-looking bitches in the one to your northeast and the one to your southwest.

>[ ] Hop to the southwest whorehouse, their bottom bitch-looking bitch is black, the same race you assume anyone with a name as dumb sounding as Shaniquea is.
>[ ] Make your way to the northeast whorehouse, bottom bitch-looking bitch their looks weaker and less masochistic than the other bottom bitch-looking bitch.
>[ ] Turn around and hop to the whorehouse south of you, regular bitches have less willpower than bottom bitches as much as a bitch prostitute can.
>[ ] Go to the whorehouse to your west, it's got more professional looking bitches in it.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3350854
>[ ] Go to the whorehouse to your west, it's got more professional looking bitches in it.
Start from the top

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Go to the whorehouse to your west, it's got more professional looking bitches in it.

Bottom bitch-looking bitches are just that, bottom bitch-looking bitches. The professional looking bitches are far more likely to have info on where the bitch you're looking for is. No bitch gets digs like that without knowing some shit. Some of those bitches might try to make trouble for you, though.

Turning to your left, you take off.

It takes you just a few seconds to land on the roof of the building.

You walk over to an edge of the rooftop and look down in the alley to see one of the professional bitches doing her job expertly on her John's john.

While you could hop down and break them apart to get your intel, the John is likely to make some noise.

Groaning, you walk over to the edge of the whorehouse's facade and peer over the side.

There are no guards in front of the entrance but there sure as hell would be some behind it.

You check the other empty alley before making your way over to the back edge of the whorehouse.

Nothing is in the cramped alley and no clear entrance but you could make your own. It'd make some noise but it's far more discreet than interrupting the John or going in through the front entrance. With bad word of you going around on the news and the upcoming trial and reveal, you can't afford to attract any press.

Lastly, you look down at the granite roof beneath your feet.

Caving in the roof will cause a lot of noise but you can snatch up one of the whores and figure out where her bitch pimp is. It'll probably leave to her getting word that you're gunning for her head, though. Going all the way to this part of the Bronx will have been a waste if she gets away.

It's your call.

>[ ] Hop over to the side and break up the bitch whore's mouth and the John's john, best to keep this on the downlow.
>[ ] Go down to the back of the whore house and sculpt a door to walk in through, it's the quietest of your options.
>[ ] Cave in the roof, fastest reckless way is the funnest challenging way.
>[ ] Jump down in front of the entrance and knock, it's only polite.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3351749
>go to the back and sculpt your way in
Damn, I missed the whole damn day

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

>>3352353
How was your day?

>>3352462
Not great, had to talk to my elderly grandmother. We recently had to move her and we’re trying to give her some of her stuff back but she’s resisting it

>>3352522
Damn, that's sad. I hope she likes her new place and understands why you and your family moved her. Old age is a bitch.

>>3352591
Yeah it really is, plus she’s kinda sliding into paranoia flavoured delirium, which is amazingly fun to deal with