>(2/2)

Either way, you don't want to be him ever again and the one person left who led you to be the current you is somewhere outside trying to get in or letting you do you.

You spin around, hop over into the floor opening to the second floor, jump from the broken ladders to the swiss cheese gate, and lift the front gate up with your free non-guitar case holding hand.

Marcus' pleasant, still black face comes into view as the sunlight flows in from behind him.

"...Kojo, you doing okay?" He looks down at the guitar case in your hand. "Oh shit, I haven't seen that old thing in years."

Grabbing hold of your best friend's shoulder, you pull him in before the slab of punctured steel can shut into him, hop back to the broken ladders, and jump through the ceiling entrance to the second floor.

Marcus groans and stumbles as you let him loose.

"What the fuck, man?"

You chuckle to yourself before glancing back at the broken mirror.

Old Boy Kojo is still where you left him and staring at your best friend.

This might actually help you with his lingering bitch ass.

>[ ] "Look at the mirror, Marcus. I'm still in there."
>[ ] "Marcus, what do you think of the old me?"
>[ ] "Are you finally feeling something?"
>[ ] "Why did you never kill him?"
>[ ] Am I the real one?
>[ ] Is he of you too?
>[ ] 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

>>3476403
>>[ ] "Look at the mirror, Marcus. I'm still in there."

Voting closed; writing now

>[X] "Look at the mirror, Marcus. I'm still in there."

He can't see him but he can at least look at him. That might provoke a reaction or maybe really get him to feel something. Of course, he's probably just going to barely register him and ask you why your brought him; he's a retard that way.

"Look at the mirror, Marcus. I'm still in there."

The man, still regaining his balance, turns his head from you to the other you.

"...It's just a broken mirror; the fuck are you talking about?"

Old Young Kojo stares blankly at Marcus.

Raising your free hand to your face, you shake your head.

"That was kind of a metaphor but very literal: I'm seeing my old self in the mirror and we're talking it out like we did back in the alley." You slide your hand off your face. "He's looking at you like a retarded orphan right now."

Marcus steadies himself and blinks before turning back to face you.

"And you brought me up here why?"

You furrow your brow.

"Because you know him better than anyone else and can probably talk some sense into him better than I can."

Black Ice shoots you a look.

"He's you and I have no idea what the fuck the issue is between you and you right now."

Scoffing, you cross your arms and focus back on your mirror self.

"For starters, he's still here."

Marcus scoffs back.

"Of course he is, you're him."

You turn back to your best friend.

"The old me, and I don't want him to be."

Second-in-command man shrugs.

"Well, figure out what he wants for a change."

A sigh escapes your lips.

"He's never wanted anything before, you know him."

Marcus lets out a drawn-out groan.

"Then you're stuck with him until he disappears or forever; you have to accept that."

You dig your free fingers into your free palm and look down at the bare granite floor.

"...I can't... I never will." Raising your head up in the mirror's direction, you glare into your old hollow brown eyes. "...Never again."

Silence fills the air.

The old you eye's remain transfixed on Marcus'.

He doesn't care about anything at all but he still bothers.

>[ ] "How would you try and handle this situation, Marcus?"
>[ ] "What are you thinking, staring into Marcus' eyes?"
>[ ] "He's staring at you right now, you know?"
>[ ] "Are you finally feeling something?"
>[ ] "Why did you never kill him?"
>[ ] "...Let's go."
>[ ] Am I the real one?
>[ ] Is he of you too?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3476703
>[ ] Is he of you too?
>[ ] ...Am I the real one?
>[ ] "How would you try and handle this situation, Marcus?"
>[ ] "He's staring at you right now, you know?"
>[ ] "Why did you never kill him?"

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

How you guys doing? Any thoughts or questions?

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Is he of you too?
>[X] ...Am I the real one?
>[X] "How would you try and handle this situation, Marcus?"
>[X] "He's staring at you right now, you know?"
>[X] "Why did you never kill him?"

>(1/2)

You've got questions that need more vague answers that raise more questions that get you even more vague answers. Maybe Marcus might be able to make sense of them if you explain them to him; he has no idea what's really going on with you but he knows you. It might be worth asking your bitch ass old self a question about Marcus being all starey at his okay face.

Taking in a deep breath of air, you let out a sigh.

Is he of you too?

He is of the mind so he is a manifestation of my will, just as you are. Although, he has been corrupted by something or by multiple factors beyond my control. Death and Rebirth likely were the causes or two major factors. I dreamed while he was awake, free of my instruction.

A small hum rumbles in your throat.

You only started feeling after you died and were reborn for a second time. For some reason, that ignited or woke up your soul. The current you is more than under his influence or he's under yours. It's possible you're just the personality he set in place and the old you is the real one free of any influence. He wouldn't be manifesting himself as if he were an entirely different entity otherwise. Either that or you're just batshit fucking crazy.

...Am I the real one?

Neither of you are real: you're the phenomena of a soul's interaction with its vessel's control system. I am the only One that is truly real. The both of you are little minds that have been shattered by what you cannot understand. You simply have my guidance while the other is a shadow of your past free of my influence. He is a matter you need to resolve.

You cluck your tongue.

>(2/2)

As usual, your soul is a self-important piece of shit that gives you answers that simply raise more questions. The only ones you can rely on are your normie flatscan friends. Obviously, you're incapable of relying on yourself.

"How would you try and handle this situation, Marcus?"

The black man holds up his hands as you turn to face him.

"Don't look at me; this is something you need to decide for yourself because you're the only one who has any idea what the fuck is going on with your crazy ass."

Groaning, you turn back to see your old self gaze at your best friend.

"He's staring at you right now, you know?"

Marcus rolls his eyes.

"Well, tell him to fuck off or I said hello because I'm not going to get into it with either of you. This is something you both need to solve for yourselves. I can't give you the perfect answers you're looking for that'll solve your problems or answer your questions; I don't think anyone can."

You sigh in frustration and glare into your own hollow brown eyes with your searing black on red.

"Why did you never kill him?"

The shadow turns from your best friend to meet your gaze with his own lifeless one.

"T͓̗̩h̢͕̖͓ͅe̦͝r̬̠͢e͖͢ w̳͈͕̪̻̹͜a̫͓͡ś̭̪͚̬͙͔̭ ̼ͅn̺e̩͇v̤͓̦̼̰ͅe̝͔̪̞r ̤̹a͝n̹͎y͖̦̪ ̛̗̪̱̥̫̮̩r̪e̛͎͚̦͎͚a̛̩̘͖͙̜͚s̪̙̩̳̩o̜̠̩̮̦͈n͠ ̣̪̞͍͚̰ͅt̀o͉͍͢.͕̫ ̟Ḩ͍̠͙̤̝e̦̤̙ ̻͎̪wa̕s̹͍̮̰̼̻ ͙̭͝e̫͇͘n̸̤͚̜̰o̳u̺͇g̛ẖ͙͚ ͠o̴f̙̤̞̗͓̮͉͞ ̗̖̬͢a͍ ̥̩͕̹̳̳b̺͎e̛̫͉͖̦͙n̦͇e̢̱͚̝f͈̳̯i͇͎͍̙͎t ̺t̨̖͙̣̦o̦͉͕̼ ̸̗̻̫̣k̯̣̥̦̬ͅḛ̰͙e͇p̦͍͙͎̺̟̩ ͉̯ͅa̠̳͕̯̫r̻̜͕o̳̱̤̗̤̘͟u͈̟̬͚͈ṇ͔d̛̙ ͉̹f̥̦̪͕̼o̪̞̗r̖̠̺ͅ ͖̮͙̙m̙̹͖̖̩ͅy̤̞̝̻͜ ̠̦̙͎͕s͎u̝͍r̹̮v̬͔̬̙̦ͅì̜̪v͇̣̼̣͜a͕͎͖l̡̪͈̖͇̯̹͉.̡̖̖̝̻"̫͔̪͈̺̟̞́

Pulling your fingers free of your palm, you grunt.

You really have no idea what the fuck you're doing asking yourself questions you already mostly know the answers to.

>[ ] "Marcus said to tell you to fuck off and that he says hello."
>[ ] "What were you thinking, staring into Marcus' eyes?"
>[ ] "I thought you were on my side, Marcus."
>[ ] "Do you think anything of me?"
>[ ] "...Let's go."
>[ ] What is it that I cannot understand?
>[ ] Do you know what he couldn't understand?
>[ ] Write In.

Going to go to my morning classes. Will close voting and update when I get back.

>>3477619
>[ ] What is it that I cannot understand?
>[ ] Do you know what he couldn't understand?
>[ ] "Marcus said to tell you to fuck off and that he says hello. But you probably already know that because you're me and I'm you, right?"
>[ ] "Do you think anything of me?"
>[ ] (Rub your head and take deep breaths. This is infuriating, but you cannot give in to it. There's got to be a solution to this... Somewhere.)

>>3477661
How the fuck do you subsume a part of your mindbroken self that is lingering around as its own entity? This Old Kojo stuff is hurting my head to figure out man. The solution is probably easy but FUUUUUUUUCK me man I'm only one player. Everybody else is fucking dead.

Don't ya fuckin' love it when your professor gives a political lecture?

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3477701
I honestly wonder if I did something that pissed them off.

If so, I'm sowwy.

>[X] What is it that I cannot understand?
>[X] Do you know what he couldn't understand?
>[X] "Marcus said to tell you to fuck off and that he says hello. But you probably already know that because you're me and I'm you, right?"
>[X] "Do you think anything of me?"
>[X] Rub your head and take deep breaths in frustration.

>(1/2)

Of course you can't just leave those questions in your head hanging. You need more vague answers to ask more questions to receive more vague answers for. Before you conquer yourself, you must know and understand yourself.

What is it that I cannot understand?

You cannot understand how others can believe in anything with a 'positive' outlook much less what you and they perceive to be as 'good.' Neither can you understand contentment, goodwill, or love. They are the words, feelings, and beliefs of lesser beings, fools, and the delusional. The world and humanity showed you its Truth and you cannot accept the falsehoods of those sheltered from it. So few know or recall it anymore and their lack of struggles do not remind them of it. They have forgotten reality and are in denial of their primal nature and desires. Rather than acknowledging, they suppress them and lock them away along with their knowledge of the 'poor' and 'underprivileged' until its advantageous for them. Even then, they act surprised when their falsehoods do not change reality. They cannot understand why someone would kill, thieve, rape, or twist the laws to their advantage due to their false world just as you cannot understand why they spare, give, pray, and preach due to your knowledge of the cruel bitter reality.

Blinking, you continue to stare into your old dead hollow eyes.

Do you know what he couldn't understand?

The Shade is incapable of understanding. He has knowledge but lacks context. Humanity and this world's Truth was exposed to him the day he was born and he continued on with that knowledge without understanding until he died in the Stream of the End and the Beginning. I do not understand why he was the way he was. Was it the lack of my guidance, the Truth of the world, or the pain? Or was it all of them? Neither you or I will probably ever know.

A small hum rumbles in your throat.

>(2/2)

Lots of things from back then could've broken you, if you weren't already born broken. That's probably the case in all likelihood knowing who you are and who your father was.

People like you aren't normal, at least not anymore.

"Marcus said to tell you to fuck off and that he says hello. But you probably already know that because you're me and I'm you, right?"

Old Boy Kojo nods.

"̰͔Ḥ̴͈͖e̺͍̪̰̪͞l̵̟̫̟l̨o̪͖̭̰̱̜,̤ ̷M̨͚̪͚͎a̱̮͔̰͚͖̞r͎̬͕̫͇̰̰c͙̝͉̹̟u̳̝͖͉ͅs̹̥͈͚͎̦.̹̀"

You blink and turn to your best friend.

"Old young me says hello, Marcus."

The black man raises an awkward eyebrow.

"Okaaay?"

Shrugging, you face yourself once again.

"Do you think anything of me?"

Ghost Kojo tilts his head awkwardly to the side.

"͓̭̻̟̙̩̰́Y͘o̪͍͟ͅu͖͜'̴r̢͈e̞̼̣̙̳̜ ͎̦̘s̹̙̠͕̜͜t̶̝r͓͔a̝̗͉̩n̻͙̖̺̫̼̜g͓̜̘̳͕ͅe̳̘͓̘̯͝ͅ.̫̠̗"̰̹̳͙̰

Another hum rumbles in your throat as you raise a hand to rub the top part of your head before you begin to take deep, frustrated breaths.

It's not a feeling but it's at least a cohesive thought. You're not even sure what strange even means to him if he isn't talking about Grand Wizard Strange. Really, he hasn't elaborated on why your guitar song was strange.

>[ ] "What were you thinking, staring into Marcus' eyes?"
>[ ] "How was the song I played earlier strange?"
>[ ] "What does that even mean to you?"
>[ ] "Strange how exactly?"
>[ ] "...Does it hurt?"
>[ ] "...Let's go."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3478657
>[ ] (to Bold Red) But do you and I not feel contentment, being around Marcus? Forget love; feelings such as appreciation and respect exist. You and I respect Ren and Run for wounding us closer than anything else has come, and you and I have spared her for it. You and I appreciate Marcus, value him beyond anybody else that still lives, except you and I. Acknowledging the Truth, the reality of the world we live in, does not change how I feel about them. Does it?
>[ ] "Strange how exactly?"
>[ ] "What does that even mean to you? Why would you care about that, being the way you are?"
>[ ] "...Does it hurt, not understanding all the way to when you drowned? It didn't click for you right up to that moment, and even then you couldn't take it. That's why I'm here, isn't it?"
>[ ] (Place hand gently on mirror)
>[ ] "You and I couldn't handle the pain, could we? You knew what I knew all along, but you didn't care to understand - until the world forced it on you."
>[ ] "Think! Concentrate! You and I share the same memories still, all it takes is you snapping out of your shitty weak shell and using that fucking head of yours!"
STOP BEING SO DENSE, NIGGA

>>3478815
>the reality of the world we live in
change that to
>the reality of the world I live in

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3478933
Be honest fungus: Am I getting anywhere to resolving this shit? I'm just one player man I have no clue how this shit works nigga. This is the exact same situation I have with another quest I follow and vote in where literally all their players except me have fucking died inexplicably.

>>3478952
Doing fine. You can't just change a hang up as severe as this with a few revelations, though.

...

But you have all the tools to when that moment arises and you'll know when it does.

>[X] But don't you and I feel contentment, being around Marcus? Forget love; feelings such as appreciation and respect exist. You and I respect Ren and Run for wounding us closer than anything else has come, and you and I have spared her for it. You and I appreciate Marcus, value him beyond anybody else that still lives, except you and I. Acknowledging the Truth, the reality of the world I live in, doesn't change how I feel about them. Does it?
>[X] "Strange how exactly?"
>[X] "What does that even mean to you? Why would you care about that, being the way you are?"
>[X] "...Does it hurt, not understanding all the way to when you drowned? It didn't click for you right up to that moment, and even then you couldn't take it. That's why I'm here, isn't it?
>[X] "You and I couldn't handle the pain, could we? You knew what I knew all along, but you didn't care to understand - until the world forced it on you. Think! Concentrate! You and I share the same memories still, all it takes is you snapping out of your shitty weak shell and using that fucking head of yours!"

>(1/2)

That's enough hearing both sides of you talk and ramble; it's time for the only Kojo who matters to set both of you straight. Both need to know it's not so cut and dry as they think it is. Without balance or understanding, there is no order or productivity. One is apathy incarnate and the other is an embodiment of passion. They're both self-destructive and destructive extremes.

But don't you and I feel contentment being around Marcus? Forget love; feelings such as appreciation and respect exist. You and I respect Ren and Run for wounding us closer than anything else has come, and you and I have spared her for it. You and I appreciate Marcus, value him beyond anybody else that still lives, except you and I. Acknowledging the Truth, the reality of the world I live in, doesn't change how I feel about them, does it?

You misunderstand me: they still have their value. Reality cannot change that for it is the reality. Contentment is not what you feel around the One Most dearest, it is joy and kinship. There is nothing in this world that can make you feel content or understand it beyond knowing of it. Most who follow us have seen the Truth of humanity and of reality and do not close their eyes in falsehoods or denial. They have felt the same pain, the same anger, and the same loneliness: they are you and I's lesser kin.

Looking down, you drop your bloody hand back to your side.

Kin... Family.

You sigh and look back up at your old self.

"Strange how exactly?"

The Young Old Kojo un-tilts his head.

"͇̭̭̹̮̣͖P͕e̶̗͎͓̘c̷̬̤ụ̸͇̗͓l̼͠i͈̙̩̻̣̠̝a̢̜͙͍ͅr̛͓͔̠, ̬o̤̣̤̞ų͈̙t͔ ̩̬̩̰͉o͘f̥̕ ̧t͞h̞̹e͇̤ ̧̖o̵͕r͉d̟͖̯į̥͕͎n̗̠̟̦͍͔͡a̩̻̙̝r̴͖̳̺̤͎̫̝y.͈̕"̢

A groan escapes your lips.

"What does that even mean to you? Why would you care about that, being the way you are?"

>(2/2)

Old Boy Kojo stares blankly into your red-on-black slitted eyes.

"̵̠̻̠S̟̟͙̻͔̪̞o̗̙̥̳̥̮̦m̥̠͕͚͈ͅet̸͚h̸͓͈͈͎ig̸̭̞̟̻̼͖ ͕̫͖̫̬͇t̹h̬̘̺̟͉a̳̘̞͇̫ͅͅt̢͉̞̺͚̖m̴͖̼̜̞us͔t̯̱͎̱ ̥̞͞b̧̝͙͓̳͇e̴̱ ̫w̫̭͚̥̭a̸͎̩̗̘t̫͖c̜̹̤͓͎̖͠ͅh̹ȩ͔͔̪̰͉d͕̀ ͙̦ͅi͚̤̙̞̞̭̥ṇ̗͖͎͇̘ͅ ̴̞̫c̺̩̹̱a̤̺̭̦̝̪̱s̱̪̙e̮̻͕̝ ̫̠̭͍̺o̪͉̗f̠ ̳̤̮̤̮̯̥ṕ̩ǫ͍̭̞̜͓̼͕t̞͕ͅḛ̬͍͕͚͝n͝t̀i̮̥̬͇a͇͈̦͎͟ḽ͚̜̬͡ h͇̰̜̭͖̰͜ạ̞r̵̙̪̜m̟̱̖͚̳.͈̻̬̣̫̗̮̕"͎

You stare back into the reflection of your dead brown eyes.

All he's ever done is try to avoid being hurt anymore than he's already have.

Unbearable agony flares in your chest.

Sighing, you begin to make your way to the shattered mirror.

The old you watches you, his eyes not once averting from yours.

You stop right in front of the mirror image and look down at your old young self.

"...Does it hurt, not understanding all the way to when you drowned? It didn't click for you right up to that moment, and even then you couldn't take it. That's why I'm here, isn't it?" You place your bloodied hand on the broken glass encompassing your small head.

Old Kojo blinks.

"͚͓̻̠̖͕I̢̠͔ț̨̼͍̬̫̩ ̴͍͇̖͍̗̥h̫̺̕u͍̭̘̜r͈͚͈t͙s̤͚ ͔͎̭͍̭̗͞b̺̻͇̝̼͚̞u͓͚͢t͍̱ ̧͈͕͚Í͓͔̥͉ ̡̗̥̘̭d̛͔͖̥̙o̡̖͕̝̯͙͔̰̹n̢̹̣͍o̘̣͓͎̕ţ͍ ̮̣̳͝u̞n̥͉̰̤̝̯de̙̞͎̥̞r̦͚͔͔̳͢s̵͉̤ta͈̗͖̱̫̬̣n̨̳d ̬͈̠̣̺͈w̗͎̮̘̗̦͝ͅh̥a̛̩̳͕t̥̜̥ ͍̮͎̻͍̗yǫ̖u'̝̹̣̟r̢͈̼̤s̙̺̦͚̪͟a̡͈̠̳̹y͍͎̘i͔̱͉̝͔n̬̭͕͙̙g̜͓̗̠.̼͖̮̻͎̞͠"̨͎̣

A frown makes its way on to your face.

"You and I couldn't handle the pain, could we? You knew what I knew all along, but you didn't care to understand - until the world forced it on you." You scowl. "Think! Concentrate! You and I share the same memories still, all it takes is you snapping out of your shitty weak shell and using that fucking head of yours!"

Old Kojo continues to stare apathetically into your eyes.

"̳W̡̠ha̜̝̯͈t̫̫̺̜ ̷͈͕̬̥̺̙̪a͈̘̝̗̹͕r̡͉̭͖̫͇̠e̞͝y̱̥̳͇͡ọu̗͚͎̖̩ ̞̠e̢͎̯̗̰v̸͍̬̘̩̪̮e̯ṇ͓ ̶̱t̺̣̕a͎l̻͉͖̭͈͔̻k̩̳̘̭i̭̦̘̥͎n͎̠̞g̦̰̮̕a̘͈̣͓bo̸̫̺͙̩̳ͅų̜̬͇̤t͍͓͝?̱"̘̱

Growling, you dig your fingers through the mirror glass into the frame and fling the piece of plywood into the nearest wall.

A deafening crack fills the air followed by the sound of shattering glass.

Silence fills the air, leaving you and Marcus alone.

The unbearable pain in your chest only increases in magnitude.

You don't feel sorry for him.

>[ ] "Why does it always have to be like this?"
>[ ] "...I really hate myself."
>[ ] "...Let's go."
>[ ] Play a song, you could use something constructive right now.
>[ ] Write In.

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

Any thoughts or questions?

>>3479125
>[ ] "Why does it always have to be like this?"
>[ ] Play a song, you could use something constructive right now.
>[ ] "...Let's go."
Leave Old Kojo to his retardation

>>3479144
I won't be able to vote from Tuesday onward for several weeks, FYI

>>3479407
support

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3479407
That's fine. Someone else has finally joined us.

>[X] "Why does it always have to be like this?"
>[X] Play a song, you could use something constructive right now.
>[X] "...Let's go."

Every single time you try to reach out to yourself or understand yourself, you just refuse to listen. Both parts of you refuse to listen to what you have to say and reject you. The more you try, the more you're denied.

A sigh escapes your lips.

"Why does it always have to be like this?"

You feel familiar small pressure of a hand on your shoulder.

"It doesn't always have to, Kojo."

Looking down at your guitar case, you let out a small hum.

"Doesn't seem that way, it doesn't seem that way at all."

Marcus pats your shoulder.

"Just have to keep trying is all."

You squat down away from your best friend's grasp, undo the instrument case's latches, pop it open, and take out the fine guitar inside. Strumming the cords once again, you think of a fitting constructive tune to play; it doesn't take you long to find one.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dGAVBaMjPmg

A mellow hum rumbles in your throat following the tune.

It's a relatively old song from Dan's time written by some poor depressed bastard. Old man used to hum it from time to time. Looking back on it now, you can understand what the Black Eyed Dog is. Fitting seeing how dark your eyes are now.

Your fingers follow along the soundboard, hitting all the appropriate notes you can vaguely remember.

A minute or two passes before you reach the end.

Putting away the guitar and standing up with its case, you turn around to see Marcus' somewhat nostalgic face.

"Didn't Dan used to hum that?"

You nod and walk past him toward the ladder openings.

"...Let's go."

Marcus follows you to your only way to the second floor.

Wrapping an arm around Black Ice, you hop down and hop over to the swiss cheese gate.

You let go of the shitty inner-eared man, lift up the gate iwth your now free arm, nudge him outside with the guitar case, and walk into the fresh air, letting the gate fall shut behind you.

Fresh air at last but you still aren't free.

>[ ] "Marcus, what's the biggest thing that's wrong with me?"
>[ ] "I don't think I'm going to get better anytime soon."
>[ ] "Do you want to do anything else before you go?"
>[ ] Grab Marcus and hop home, it's almost time.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3480443
>[ ] "Do you want to do anything else before you go?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Do you want to do anything else before you go?"

Little time is left until he'll have to go out to fulfill his duty to you. Doesn't mean you can't fit a few things in before then, though. Getting lunch is out of the question especially at this time but you can hang out and relax. The two of you need it after then fit of rage you just had a minute or two ago.

You turn to face your unbalanced, bent over friend.

"Do you want to do anything else before you go?"

The man groans as he regains his balance.

"No, not really."

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a questioning look.

"Are you sure? I mean, this is our last moments together before we don't see each other for a while; know the chances are slim, but I could be locked away forever depending on how things go down."

Black Ice scoffs.

"Kojo, I know you: there's no way in hell you're gonna get locked up or stay locked up if that ever happens. If you do, you're gonna break the fuck out and toss away whatever anonymity you have, which means you're going to be the new Kingpin full time. Not ideal with the loss of your inheritance but it means you won't have to pull your punches anymore."

You cluck your tongue.

"And the streets will flow red with blood; yeah, no. I'm still going to keep it quiet, bad for business otherwise. Still, you sure?"

Marcus nods.

"You look like you need to and want to be alone. I know my way back to the warehouse from here. You can go do whatever you feel like doing while we do what we need to do."

A hum rumbles in your throat.

The unbearable rage and pain inside your chest are still there. If you're not careful, you might hurt someone on reflex. You'd hate yourself if it turned out to be him and you'd cause a ruckus if it were someone else.

"At least let me take you back to the warehouse."

The black man slowly shakes his head.

"And let you fuck up my inner ear even more than you already have? Fuck no." He turns to the direction of the street corner and begins to walk. "I'll see you again sometime, Kojo." Marcus stops and turns back to smile and wave goodbye. "Everything is gonna be okay, just give it time."

You slowly wave back as he turns and walks away.

Putting down your free hand, a sigh escapes your lips.

Nothing ever feels like it's going to be okay.

>[ ] Cut through the Bronx to Manhattan and Manhattan to Strange's, you've got lessons to continue.
>[ ] Hop back to the warehouse and lay down on the roof, you need to relax for a while.
>[ ] Make your way to Queens, you want to lay down in the park and relax.
>[ ] Side-flip on to the roof of the warehouse, this is your old home.
>[ ] Take out your burner and call John Sublime, time to set boundaries.
>[ ] Flip out your burner and call Silvio, maybe he's awake.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3480814
>[ ] Side-flip on to the roof of the warehouse, this is your old home.
>[ ] Flip out your burner and call Silvio, maybe he's awake.
Gotta prepare and relax before the big event

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Side-flip on to the roof of the warehouse, this is your old home.
>[X] Flip out your burner and call Silvio, maybe he's awake.

You haven't chilled on this rooftop in a long time. Marcus and the others used to sleep inside while you watched the stars on top of it. Back then, you'd actually come down during the day to chill out and hang when you weren't expanding your territory. Having the entire Bronx under your foot gave you less incentive to hang out with your troops or Marcus. Peace just didn't make it the same and a lot of our OGs died in the Bratva attack. All you did was skygaze and plan moves to expand into the other boroughs before that biker. You had to do what you should've done a long time ago at that point.

Bending your knees, you exert yourself against the ground at an angle.

The ground formerly underneath your feet audibly cracks as the wind gusts around your flipping form.

Landing back-first on to the warehouse's granite roof, you take a deep breath of the fresh morning air.

All alone once again like you've been countless times in the past. It's never felt this cold in your memory, but it is now since you've changed. There is no great looming enemy, no problem you can solve with your fists, and no benefit from involving yourself in your underlings' takeovers.

There is only you.

A sigh escapes your lips.

Silvio might not be awake, but it might be worth checking in on him just so you know he's fine and everything is ready. There's totally no way someone as experienced as him might not make a mistake. He's an old man too; he might have gone senile since your last conversation.

You're totally not doing this because you're lonely or anything.

Digging your hand into your pocket, you flip out your burner and dial in the Ancient Kingpin's number.

The line dials six full times before going to voicemail.

"I'm sorry, the pe-"

You press down on the red phone button and groan.

It's, like, seven or six, of course he isn't awake at this hour.

Although, you could keep trying to call him.

>[ ] Stand up and cut through the Bronx to Manhattan and Manhattan to Strange's, you've got lessons to continue.
>[ ] Kip-up and make your way to Queens, you want to lay down in the park and relax there.
>[ ] Keep calling Silvio's number, he'll pick up eventually.
>[ ] Call John Sublime, it's time to set boundaries.
>[ ] Just relax, everything is gonna be fine.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3481124
>[ ] Just relax, everything is gonna be fine.
In heaven, everything's fine. You've got your things, and I've got mine...

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Just relax, everything is gonna be fine.

>(1/2)

Old sleeping dogs need to be allowed to lie down and rest. The elderly need their sleep much more than the youngings do. Most only wake up so early because they go to sleep early. Silvio might have had to deal with the mess Hammerhead left behind in wake of his assassination during the past few days.

You tuck your burner back into your pocket and take in a deep breath of air.

There's nothing wrong with just relaxing but you're not exactly the type to when shit is about to go down. Sure, you can't do shit about that shit, but it's still some shit. If only you had something to vent your frustration out on without attracting any attention.

A sigh escapes your lips.

Peace is far more unnerving to you than conflict. You're not averse to it but it's always been a sign of the calm before a storm. At least when you know where your enemies are and what they know, you can enjoy small peaceful moments. Everything is clear and you know where your problems lie.

Groaning, you gaze out into the early morning sky.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J0ZYNwvVn2w

It's always so vast, free, and bright.

You're always so shallow, confined, and dark.

Humming, you stretch your body out against the granite roof.

>(2/2)

There's nothing that toxic about being who you are. If anything, you've helped more people than a lot of 'heroes' out there. Of course, you've killed a lot people, most of whom earned their fates.

You growl.

Those who didn't were the rest of the only precious people in your life. Marcus would've joined them if you had the slightest inclination and didn't restrain yourself back at the alley. Despite your functionality, you're still twisted on the inside.

Sighing, you let go of your guitar case and ease both your hands underneath your head.

He's still alive, though. And he believes in you the most out of everything in this world. In spite of everything you've done and your twistedness, he still cares for you.

The bright pinkish sky blurs as more pain wells in your chest.

You don't deserve him but he still wants to be by your side; you left him alone for the better part of two and a half years but he still thinks of you as a friend. He sees the better side of you and knows you suffer from the same pain everyone in the crew does. As others viewed you as a nuisance or a demon, he viewed you in awe and as your own man.

Whimpering, tears begin to streak down your cheeks.

There is someone in this world who values you, respects you, and believes in you above all else.

Relaxing your form, you wipe your eyes and stare out into the open sky.

Two to three hours pass and the sky turns into its usual blue.

Silvio might definitely be awake by now.

>[ ] Stand up and cut through the Bronx to Manhattan and Manhattan to Strange's, you've got lessons to continue.
>[ ] Kip-up and make your way to Queens, you want to lay down in the park and relax there.
>[ ] Flip out your burner and dial Silvio's number again, he'll pick up probably.
>[ ] Call John Sublime, it's time to set boundaries.
>[ ] Relax some more, you're on a chill roll.
>[ ] Write In.

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

Any thoughts or questions?

...

You crying, bruh?

Hey, been away. Tough week.
Gotta catch up.
Then I'll vote.

>>3481634
>[ ] Flip out your burner and dial Silvio's number again, he'll pick up probably.
Soon, things will be moving too much for Kojo to sit around and mope

>>3482608
but what should we talk about when we call him?

>>3482613
How things are going, what the plan for the day is, etc.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Flip out your burner and dial Silvio's number again, he'll pick up probably.

Sleepy old dogs have been allowed to lay down and lie. You need to know how things are going down on his end before the press conference. Everything is probably set up by now; you just need to know what time it's taking place.

You're totally not still kind of lonely.

Digging your hand into your pocket, you flip out your burner and dial in Silvermane's number.

The line drones three times before breaking.

"Is this who I think it is? You called about two hours ago and didn't leave a message. I'm sure it was important if you are who I think you are but it's very much possible you're not; this world's always been unpredictable, old age has taught me that."

You smile and laugh.

"Do you really have anyone else calling you on your personal cell, old man?"

A small laugh fuzzes through the burner speakers.

"No, not really, Don. How can I help you this fine morning?"

Stretching yourself out against the roof once again, you yawn.

"How are you?"

The line lays quiet for a moment.

"...Well, how are you?"

You shrug.

"Oh, you know... Going through the motions; chillin' like a villain."

A grumbly hum vibrates through the burner.

"Is there anything I can hep you with, Don?"

Moving your phone away from your phone, you let out a groan.

He's not in the mood for small talk or you're being so awkward right now.

>[ ] "I need to know what time the press conference is taking place."
>[ ] "Did Hammerhead's death leave you a mess to deal with?"
>[ ] "Just wanted to check in on you, Silvio."
>[ ] "...Am I being rude?"
>[ ] "...How's Sofia?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3482854
>[ ] "...Am I being rude?"
>[ ] "I need to know what time the press conference is taking place."
>[ ] "...How's Sofia?"

>>3482960
support

Gotta go get a haircut. Will close voting and update when I get back.

I'm back.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...Am I being rude?"
>[X] "I need to know what time the press conference is taking place."
>[X] "...How's Sofia?"

Calling him so early in the morning was kind of a dick move to the old man. Hell, it's a dick move to most people: not everyone doesn't need to sleep like you do. It's the equivalent of showing up on their door drunk only they're drunk but actually drowsy and incapable of dealing with your shit at the moment.

You move your phone back to your ear.

"...Am I being rude?"

A small surprised grunt crackles through the speakers.

"No, Don, you just sound strange: bored, like you have nothing else to do."

Blinking, you look out at the bright blue sky.

He's right, you don't have anything better to do or don't feel like really doing anything at all right now.

"I need to know what time the press conference is taking place."

An understanding 'Ah' fuzzes through the speakers.

"10:00 AM. I thought sometime after five closer to the time of discovery would be effective but the location of the conference is already in bad taste. This way, your name will be all over the even news and in the afternoon papers. I hope you don't mind that, Don."

Once again, you blink your big red-on-black cat eyes.

That cuts down the stress of waiting for it to happen and also ensures there won't be that much conflict between it and the movements your inner circle will be making into the other boroughs. Hell, the afternoon reports and the talk of the town would be about the extreme power grabs rather than your inheritance. This way, you take center stage while everything else happens in the background.

"...How's Sofia?"

Silence fills the line for a moment.

"Uh, she's doing well, Don; she wants to go but I'm not sure its wise to let her. Are you pleased with the change?"

A hum rumbles in your throat.

You need to start watching what you say and how you say it along with your mood.

>[ ] "Let her go, she'll make you look more like a loving grandpa than a former crime king."
>[ ] "That's a perfect time. I'll watch from above, old man."
>[ ] "Did Hammerhead's death leave you a mess to deal with?"
>[ ] "Sorry, things have been happening lately."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3483356
>[ ] "Let her go, she'll make you look more like a loving grandpa than a former crime king. And yes, the time is fine."
>[ ] "...Sorry, unexpected things have been happening a lot lately."

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Let her go, she'll make you look more like a loving grandpa than a former crime king. And yes, the time is fine."
>[X] "...Sorry, unexpected things have been happening a lot lately."

He could use the image boost from having his sweet adolescent granddaughter around. The old man might not like putting his granddaughter on a spotlight, but she's handled a crowd of hardened mobsters before, not to mention completely owned them. All of them might have known her and would've been killed for not respecting her but few whatever-year-olds could possibly say they did that at that age, much less grown ups. Sofia might actually like the public attention and convince them Silvio had absolutely nothing to do with the incident.

A smile makes its way on to your face.

"Let her go, she'll make you look more like a loving grandpa than a former crime king. And yes, the time is fine."

The old lion lets out an understanding hum of his own.

"She does have a way of making things look better, doesn't she? I suppose it won't do any harm to bring her along; might have to increase her detail on account of the press' revitalized interest in my family, however. I was already planning on doing that anyway just in case."

You let out a laugh.

"At least the increased attention on her will make more of those bodyguards worth their cost."

Silvio laughs back.

"I suppose it will. The special security I have in place to protect her, if all else fails, has a lower chance of being activated for an exorbitant fee now." A sigh fuzzes through the burner's speakers. "Sometimes I wonder why I keep paying for it but my encounters with you, Don, have taught me its well worth the price for my only family left."

A frown makes its way on to your face as Taskmaster's mask flashes through your mind.

Maybe you did intend to harm Sofia once but you don't have any wish to now that you know her and her surprisingly wise old man.

"I'm sorry for ever making you think I'd hurt her, Silvio."

The line lays silent for a full minute.

"...Thank you, Don. I don't mean to be rude or to pry into your personal business, but are you well? This is...while welcome, completely unlike you. I feel as though I'm taking with a completely different young man."

You sigh and laugh.

He's right, you've changed and are feeling things you've never felt or handled before right now.

"...Sorry, unexpected things have been happening a lot lately."

Once again, the line lays silent.

"If you need anything, feel free to ask, Don. Is there anything else you need right now?"

A hum rumbles in your throat.

There's not much you can think of.

>[ ] "Tell Sofia I'll be watching from the rooftops. She can look up at me but she can't point."
>[ ] "Did Hammerhead's death leave you a mess to deal with?"
>[ ] "Is Tombstone still in town?"
>[ ] "...Thank you, Silvio."
>[ ] "No, I'm good."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3483820
>[ ] "Is Tombstone still in town?"
>[ ] "Tell Sofia I'll be watching from the rooftops. She can look up at me but she can't point."
>[ ] "...Thank you, Silvio. I'll see you later."

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Is Tombstone still in town?"
>[X] "Tell Sofia I'll be watching from the rooftops. She can look up at me but she can't point."
>[X] "...Thank you, Silvio. I'll see you later."

You haven't tried calling him yet but Silvio's more likely to know his whereabouts than you are. Never can have enough enforcers on your side. With Fisk gone, you're the only big game in town that can afford the average or big guys. Of course, you're going to go to the conference. Not telling Sofia after convincing Silvio to let her could risk her pointing you out on the nearest rooftop.

"Is Tombstone still in town?"

A questioning grunt crackles through the burner speakers.

"Lonnie? I don't think he's going to leave just yet without making sure his daughter is completely fine or spending some amount of time with her. He's quite protective and loving for not being in her life, though I suppose I can't fault him for that: if I had been the same with my family, perhaps they'd still be alive and Sofia wouldn't be an orphan."

Frowning, you look out into the blue sky.

You really don't know how he could forgive you for threatening the one person he values the most in the world. If he had done the same to you, he would be a mangled corpse. Maybe age will one day curb your passion like it did his.

"Tell Sofia I'll be watching from the rooftops. She can look up at me but she can't point."

The old man laughs.

"She knows her manners well enough not to point. I need to work on her cursing, however; being around men of scandalous reputation hasn't done her any good."

Clutching your side with your free hand, you laugh back.

It's astonishing and endearing how someone so sweet could also be so crass. You'd like having your children and grandchildren be the same way. They would be absolutely adorable.

"...Thank you, Silvio. I'll see you later."

You raise your finger over the red phone button and press down before the old man can do the same to you.

Not much else for you to do before the press conference.

>[ ] Stand up and cut through the Bronx to Manhattan and Manhattan to Strange's, you've got lessons to continue.
>[ ] Kip-up and make your way to Queens, you want to lay down in the park and relax there.
>[ ] Get up and hop to the Rockefeller center, now is as good a time as any.
>[ ] Dial in Tombstone's number, never enough enforcers.
>[ ] Call John Sublime, it's time to set boundaries.
>[ ] Relax some more, you're on a chill roll.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3484372
>[ ] Kip-up and make your way to Queens, you want to lay down in the park and relax there.
But not where any errant eye could catch us, in case it can fuck us up later on.

Voting closed; writing now.

Out of curiosity, what do you guys think of my music selection?

>>3484638
definitely varied, not bad, plus it works

>[X] Kip-up and make your way to Queens, you want to lay down in the park and relax there.

While hard and stiff, this cement roof isn't exactly comfortable to be resting on. Some grass would be more softer and funner to drag your fingers along. You're still at the edges of Summer, though: all the little bastards are still free of their 'educational' prisons. They'll be back in no time, but the parks are plagued with them for now.

You tuck your burner away, grab hold of your guitar case's handle, and kick yourself up to your feet.

Stretching yourself out, you turn to the direction of Queens and take off into the blue morning sky.

It takes you seven or so minutes to cut through the Bronx, leap from bridge support to bridge support into Queens, and hop down into the clearing of Francis Lewis Park.

Letting yourself fall down on to the grass, you let out a pleased groan.

All of the easily brainwashed little tykes are in the tree hidden playground to your left. It's a little too hot out for kids to be playing under the sun so they'll stick to the shade if they know what's good for their baby skin. Some on the outskirts might see you but they'll probably run away at the sight of your majestic horns.

You let go of your guitar case and take a deep breath of the energized nature park air.

Mother Gaia's bounty is something everyone enjoys but doesn't realize just how big the extent of Her gift is. A shame one day this planet will get swallowed by the sun. Fuck loads of people can burn as far as you care, but the removal of this world's diverse biome would be such a waste.

Closing all three of your eyes, you let yourself rest and enjoy the park's atmosphere.

Half an hours goes by until shadows block out the sun lighting your eyelids red and several scents make your nose twitch.

You open your eyes to the sight of a little white boy, a black boy, a white girl, a Chinese girl, and a Filipino maybe-girl maybe-boy looking down at you with curious and unbelieving eyes.

Blinking, you glance from boy to girl to maybe-boy maybe-girl.

This is Queens, but you're still kind of surprised by how diverse this little group of peepy flatscans are.

You probably shouldn't have come here.

>[ ] "Don't you kids know better than to stand around a mutant with demon eyes and a guitar case that's totally hiding revolvers, rockets, and knives?"
>[ ] "Did you two little pale people make friends with two dark skins and a narrow eye because they were different or because they lived close to you?"
>[ ] "You, Filipino, are you a boy or a girl? Second thought, don't answer that: I don't wanna know what your owner calls you."
>[ ] "Please don't tell me you little people told your parents before walking up to me."
>[ ] "Crackers. Niglet. Chink... Prostitute?"
>[ ] "...What? What?"
>[ ] "...Hello?"
>[ ] Growl, scaring children is fun.
>[ ] Kip-up and hop away, children are unpredictable.
>[ ] Ignore them, you're sure all your problems will just go away.
>[ ] Write In.

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

Any thoughts or questions?

What's the best song I've played or introduced you to or both?

>>3484951
>[ ] "...What? What?"
>[ ] "Don't you know it's not nice to bother people when they're sleeping? Go on, run back to your parents." Wave them off. You still have time before the conference, and you want to enjoy it.

>>3484951
>>[ ] "...Hello?"

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>[ ] "...What? What?"
>[ ] "Don't you know it's not nice to bother people when they're sleeping? Go on, run back to your parents." Wave them off. You still have time before the conference, and you want to enjoy it.

>[ ] "...Hello?"

>>3484951
>>3485030
>>[X] "...What? What?"
>>[X] "Don't you know it's not nice to bother people when they're sleeping? Go on, run back to your parents." Wave them off. You still have time before the conference, and you want to enjoy it.
Fits.
And let's not intentionally frighten children immediately before being announced to the world.

>>3485898
Missed it by *that* much.

>[X] "...Hello?"

As much as you want to wave them off to there parents, they'll probably tell them about you and they'll call the boys in blue. You could just jump up and hop away, but you want to enjoy the park for a while longer. Best to just approach this diplomatically.

"...Hello?"

The two pale ones raise and wave their hands as the ones with some color take a step back.

"Hello!"

You hum a curious hum, let go of your guitar case, and stretch yourself out against the grass.

"Can I help you little people or?"

Little Miss White Tyke giggles.

"Kitty eyes!"

You blink as the black and the Chinese girl laugh.

"What?"

The pale girls points at one of your eyes.

"You have big red kitty eyes!"

Black boy takes a step forward and runs his hand along your guitar case.

"Is there a guitar in here? Do you play guitar?"

You raise an eyebrow at the token black and part your lips to say the obvious before remembering you're dealing with children.

"Oh, yeah I do."

The Chinese girl takes a step forward and claps her hands together.

"Can you play us a song?"

White Girly Tyke jumps.

"Yeah, play us a song!"

Pale boy scans your person for something.

"Do you have a hat or a cup or do you put all your money in the guitar?"

For the umpteenth time, you blink your big red-on-black cat-like demon eyes.

So this is the pathetic excuse Sofia has for competition in her age group. Girl might have been born into a wealthy crime family, but even if she was born to some immigrant Italian family in Queens she would be rich by the time she reached her thirties. These little bastards don't even know to stay away from mutants unless you have a group of armed men surrounding one so you can snag a piggy back ride.

You can probably leave or indulge them, you are planning to have children of your own one day.

>[ ] "Do any of you have any idea what I am and who I am?"
>[ ] "No, I only play when I feel like it."
>[ ] "Alright, do you have any requests?"
>[ ] Kip-up, grab your guitar case, and hop away. No acoustic guitar for them.
>[ ] Pop out your guitar and play a terrifying song, you love horrifying children.
>[ ] Take out your guitar and play a song fitting you and your actions, it'd be fun to see the confusion on their faces.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3486035
>[ ] "Alright, do you have any requests?"
It's Kojo's last day before shit happens, he might as well roll with it.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Alright, do you have any requests?"

This is one of your few last free days before you claim your inheritance and turn yourself in. You may as well have some fun while you can even if it won't exactly be in your self interest. At the very least, you can probably use one of these brats as a character witness or a tool to spread word of what a good person you 'really' are.

You lift your upper body up and move your guitar case on to your lap.

All the little munchkins around you stare as you undo the case's latches and pop it open.

Pulling out your guitar, you close the case shut and put it off to your side.

"Alright, do you have any requests?"

The white girl jumps up and down.

"Oooh! Ooh! Play the Itsy Bitsy spider!"

You raise an eyebrow at the girl before shrugging and working your fingers along the guitar soundboard.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7z2-jhjyRBg

Every single one of the pale girl's friend shoot her a look as you begin strumming the tune.

The girl jumps up and down in the same movements your fingers take.

"Yay, yay, yay!"

You roll your eyes along with the other children.

As you reach the end note, you turn your gaze to the less retarded behaving kids.

"Do any of you have one that's not something someone your age would probably ask for?"

Token Black raises his hand and stands silent.

You raise an eyebrow before realizing what his gesture means and pointing at him.

A smile makes its way on the boys face.

"Can you do the guitar solo from the Hotel California?"

Smiling back, you give your guitar's strings a strum.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r3ebOxltJ1w

The children's faces around you turn to amazement and shock as you begin to play a score worthy of your talent.

Your left-hand fingers dance along the soundboard as your other hand's flick the appropriate notes.

A hum slowly starts to build in your throat, following the tune of the song.

Blacky boy puts his own hands in the air and mimicks your movements on his make believe guitar.

Choking down a laugh, you ignore him and focus on making the Californian drug addict nightmare an audible reality.

A good minute or two of soulful East Coast wastrel rock passes by until your finger flicks the last note.

The children stare at you in awed silence before applauding your brilliant performance.

Chuckling to yourself, you shift your guitar grip to one hand and grab hold of your case handle with the other.

Little Filipino maybe-boy maybe-girl walks up to your side as you lift your not quite hefty case.

"Who are you, mister?"

You stop and blink at the androgynous as all fuck child.

Now is your chance to spread the legend of Kojo the 'Good' Doer.

>[ ] "Kojo Reyes, I'm a mutant."
>[ ] "The Man with No Name."
>[ ] "Don Henley."
>[ ] "No one."
>[ ] "Satan."
>[ ] Play an appropriate song, they'll understand who they met this day years from now in their adulthood.
>[ ] Stand up, put away your guitar, and hop away. You've entertained them enough.
>[ ] Write In

Forgive the wait. Fucking last minute group projects.

>>3486974
>[ ] "Kojo Reyes, I'm a mutant." Smile; for being flatscans they haven't been as annoying as you thought they would.
>[ ] Glance at the Asian girl and the Filipino child. "You two got any requests of your own? Wouldn't be fair if I didn't play a song for you too."
This is a nice interlude before shit happens.

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3487050
>This is a nice interlude before shit happens.
Yep.

>[X] "Kojo Reyes, I'm a mutant."
>[X] "You two got any requests of your own? Wouldn't be fair if I didn't play a song for you too."

>(1/2)

For being little flat scan tykes, they sure aren't as annoying as you thought they'd be. It's actually kind of pleasant to be around them and their easily entertained little minds. You're not gonna ruin your chance to spread good word among the Queens children of your existence, too.

A smile makes its way on to your face.

"Kojo Reyes, I'm a mutant."

The little brown Asian Latino person blinks its big brown eyes.

"...What's a mutant?"

You blink back and tilt your head in confusion.

Either this kid is somehow fucking with you at his age or is incredibly sheltered from the outside world and its insanity.

Chinese girl raises her hands to her lips in shock.

"You're an X-man!?"

The white girl pats you on the head as the white boy scrutinizes you.

"No, he's a demon kitty!"

Slim Shady shakes his head.

"He's not a cat or a member of the X-men: he doesn't have fur and doesn't have an X on his shirt."

Little far eastern girl lowers her hands.

"Then he must be a music 魔鬼!" (Pinyin: "móguǐ", Translation: "demon/fiend/devil/dragon")

All the other children blink and turn to her.

You let out an appreciative 'aww.'

She thinks you're a musical dragon devil thing.

Kingpin's knowledge of the Far Eastern languages is actually kind of useful for things other than trash talking their peoples.

"You two got any requests of your own?" You turn to the Filipino person. "Wouldn't be fair if I didn't play a song for you too."

>(2/2)

The Chinese girl blinks.

"今宵多珍重." (Pinyin: "Jīnxiāo duō zhēnzhòng", Translation: "Farewell tonight, my love.")

You blink and set down your case as a memory that is not yours of a beautiful Chinese song sings in your mind. Grabbing proper hold of your guitar once again, you align your fingers with the strings.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MJJJDoJNckE

A beautiful homely chime rings through the air as you pluck your guitar's strings.

Dragon girl giggles and grabs hold of the little Filipino person's waist as well as its hand.

The two far east Asians awkwardly dance around in a circle to the cheers and applauds of their friends.

Humming along, you smile at the adorably awkward sight of two Asian children who's mother's probably despise each other dance.

It doesn't take long for your fingers to strum out a final note, signaling the two children to separate.

Filipino boy-girl thing rubs the back of its head.

"Can you play La Bamba?"

You nod your head and strum your guitar.

As if the most Chicano Mexican song would be something you'd have trouble playing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FLprxdkpqms

Your fingers dance along the finger board, plucking at all the appropriate strings.

A joyful hum builds in your throat going along with the rhythm.

The children around you clap their hands.

Closing your eyes, you lose yourself in the musical tune.

A minute or two passes before you strum out the final note and open your eyes to the five children and one terrified adult surrounding you.

Blinking, you turn and gaze into the brown eyes of the dark skinned woman.

Now you probably need to go.

>[ ] "Are these five racially diverse children yours, single black mother?"
>[ ] "Can I help you with something or do I need to eat your soul?"
>[ ] "Token, is that your mother?"
>[ ] "Pedophile! Pedophile!"
>[ ] "...What? What?"
>[ ] Put away your guitar and hop away, live to strum another day.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3487657
>[ ] "...What? What?"
>[ ] "Okay fine, I'll find some other park to rest in. See ya."
>[ ] Put away your guitar, walk away, wave back at the kids then hop away. Best live to strum another day.

>>3487657
>[ ] "Are these five racially diverse children yours, single black mother?"

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

Any thoughts or questions?

Also, I made a playlist I never told you guys about and have been updating it as of late:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIla03MZw7Ev6y7u98WYVeV9HuS5-Ez9R

>>3487657
>>[X] "I suppose it's time to move along."

>>3487691
>>[X] Put away your guitar, walk away, wave back at the kids then hop away. Best live to strum another day.

I'd like to speak to and calm the woman, but preemptively leaving on a positive note seems more likely to end well than Kojo calming down a terrified flatscan.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...What? What?"
>[X] "I suppose it's time to move along."
>[X] Put away your guitar, walk away, wave back at the kids then hop away. Best live to strum another day.

Good things don't last forever or anymore than a while, really. You enjoyed the moment while you could, but you've got other shit to do and the public eye to avoid. The press conference is in, like, an hour and a half anyway.

"...What? What?"

The children all turn to stare at the black woman with confused eyes.

You sigh and stand yourself up.

"I suppose it's time to move along."

Little white boy whines.

"Wait, you didn't play me a song!"

Blinking, you pop open your guitar case.

"Save it for next time I guess, which is probably never."

The child's form slumps in disappointment.

Mrs. Black Woman sets an awkward hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I-it's okay, Jonathan! Now just step back and let the mu-man leave."

You roll your eyes as you set your guitar into its case and seal it shut with its latches.

If you were going to hurt them or kill them, they'd already be dead or bleeding out into the soil. You killed a lot of other kids when you were their age. They'll probably never know how easy it is but they're better off not knowing seeing how sheltered they are.

The children not being held on to by some weird black woman who knows them applaud you as you lift up your guitar case.

Smiling, you give a polite bow and wave goodbye before taking off towards Throgs Neck Bridge, much to their cries of amazement.

You hop from bridge support to bridge support back on to a nearby roof in your home borough.

Weird experience but being around a group of kids you weren't in the middle of killing for once was actually pleasant.

The big conference is probably being set up by now but won't be starting in a while.

>[ ] Cut through the Bronx to Manhattan and Manhattan to Strange's, you've got lessons to continue.
>[ ] Get up and hop to the Rockefeller center, now is as good a time as any.
>[ ] Dial in Tombstone's number, can never have enough enforcers.
>[ ] Call John Sublime, it's time to set boundaries.
>[ ] Relax some more, you're on a chill roll.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3488668
>[ ] Cut through the Bronx to Manhattan and Manhattan to Strange's, you've got lessons to continue.
HELLO MAGIC MAN
MAGIC MAN
GIB MAGIC

>>3488668
I want to go to Strange's, but we have a tendency to lose track of time there.
I think we need to pay attention to the mundane world today.
Of course, learning some magical escape trick could be handy.

>>[X] Dial in Tombstone's number, can never have enough enforcers.
>>[X] Get up and hop to the Rockefeller center

>>3488668
this >>3488730
at least go there ahead of time and camp until the time comes; it pays to be early

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Dial in Tombstone's number, can never have enough enforcers.
>[X] Hop to the Rockefeller center.

Black Albino man was a pretty chill guy to be around and talk with. He has the experience and the attitude to play at the big leagues. With the people your dad pissed off looming over the horizon, you're going to need all the help you can get. May as well go to the Rockefeller center now while you're at it. You can rest on the roof of it while things get ready.

Digging your hand into your pocket, you flip out your burner and dial in Tombstone's contact number before hopping casually in the direction of Manhattan.

The line rings four times before breaking.

"Hello, who is this?" A familiar deep, gruff voice almost growls.

You grin as you jump to another rooftop.

"It's me, Tombstone. You wouldn't happen to be free for employment, would you?"

A knowing 'ah' fuzzes through the burner speakers.

"Good morning, prince. Or should I say king? The whole entire city hasn't been able to stop talking about what happened to Fisk. My daughter even asked me if I knew what happened or if I had a hand in it myself. Have to say, I'm impressed by your work and honored that you'd call me."

Chuckling, you flip in the air to yet another tile roof.

"Enough about me, are you free?"

The man hums in confirmation.

"What's the job?"

You hop off the tiled rooftop to a smooth granite roof.

"Stay in town and the new top players will give you all you can handle with the appropriate amount of pay."

A questioning hums rumbles through the speakers.

"I was already planning on staying for a while but it looks I'm going to be staying in town for quite some time."

You let out a small laugh as you approach Madison Avenue Bridge.

"See you around then."

Moving your finger over the red phone button, you end the call and slip your burner back in your pocket as you land on the first bridge support.

It takes you about twelve leisure hopping minutes to go from the bridge, through rundown Harlem, and the fancy upper east side to the Rockefeller center in the towering cement jungle of Midtown.

You look over the edge down at the Atlas statue and see borders being set up around it with the organizers carrying a podium to the front of the statue.

It's gonna be time soon.

The grin on your face widens.

It's going to be Your time.

>[ ] Play an appropriate song for this occasion, it's not like anyone will hear you up here.
>[ ] Input all your inner circles' numbers one by one, best to check up on 'em all.
>[ ] Flip out your burner and call Marcus, check-ups are nice.
>[ ] Call John Sublime, it's time to set boundaries.
>[ ] Lay back and wait, nothing else to do now.
>[ ] Write In.

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

>>3488948
>[ ] Input all your inner circles' numbers one by one, best to check up on 'em all.
>[ ] Lay back and wait, nothing else to do now.
SOON™

Voting closed; writing now.

Antici-

>>3489788
-pation

>[X] Input all your inner circles' numbers one by one, best to check up on 'em all.
>[X] Lay back and wait, nothing else to do now.

>(1/2)

Everything needs to be perfect and in place before your big moment. Only Marcus, Itsuki, and Cuda would probably be in any trouble right now thanks to their assignments in the other boroughs. Alex is either with Ituski in Queens or stayed behind in the Bronx waiting for your instruction as your personal assassin. Jesús is either with Marcus to paint his image as a mercenary or stayed behind with Ren for the same reason and to await your instruction.

First things first, your best man.

You dig your hand into your pocket, flip out your burner phone, and dial in the magic black man's burner number.

The line dial drones three times before breaking.

"What's the situation?" Your #1 homie's familiar stern voice asks.

Chuckling, you set down your guitar case.

"It's me; just checking in to see how things are going on your end."

Marcus clucks his tongue.

"Stuck in Lower Manhattan; walking would've took too long so we jacked some cars like we did last time. Traffic is a goddamn bitch."

Your chuckling increases in intensity to laughter.

"We? Is Alex or Jesús with you?"

A car horn blares through the burner speakers.

"Oh fuck all these goddamn people! Alex stayed behind with Ren, and Jesús' crazy drag racing motherfucking ass is right here; say hi, you crazy motherfucker!"

Fuzzy noises fill the line.

"Hola, patrón."

You cover your mouth with your free hand to muffle your uncontrollable laughter.

If only you had been there to see the black man's first reaction in person.

The fuzzy noises return before being broken by Marcus' annoyed grunt.

"We got in a high-speed pursuit back in the Bronx and this crazy motherfucker lost them after driving into Manhattan. Had to stop and puke afterward besides finding the guys we lost in that chase."

You shake your head.

"At least you're on track now."

Marcus scoffs.

"I'm still in a car with Jesús behind the wheel."

Cackling, you fall back on to the cement roof.

"I'll see you in a few weeks; don't worry, I'll call."

>(2/2)

You move your thumb over to the red phone button and press down before inputting Cuda's number.

The line dials twice before breaking.

"What up?" Big Black's playful deep voice asks.

You stare out into the big blue morning sky.

"Nothing, just checking on you."

Booming laughter crackles through the burner speakers.

"Oh hey, homie! I'm in Harlem's Paradise, waiting for my niggas while the little nigga who owns the pace accommodates me. Can't talk like we usually do around these Harlem Rivals niggas, but I'm doing mah thang. You keep it real, dog; I've got your back."

You blink and glance at your burner from the corner of your eye.

Cuda knows how to keep his mouth shut and how to keep it on the down-low.

"Aight, see you in a while, Cuda."

A supportive hum fuzzes through the line.

"Peace, my nigga."

The line falls dead as you move your thumb over the end call button.

Clucking your tongue, you furrow your brow.

He may have won this time, but he will get his due like that cyborg bitch.

You input Itsuki's contact number and shake your head in chastizement.

The line dials once before breaking.

"もし もし?" Itsuki's ever so professional emotionless voice says. (Romanji: "Moshi moshi?", Translation: Telephone "Hello?")

Chuckling, you relax your stiff form.

"It's me, Itsuki; how are things going on your end?"

Clinking crackles throuhg the burner phone speakers.

"We are scavenging through the Yakuza safehouses for equipment and supplies, Reyes-sama." Breaking glass shatters in the background. "...Excuse me, Reyes-sama, I must remind my men I have the keys to these places.

You let out a laugh.

"Keep at it then, Itsuki; I'll see you in a few weeks." You move your thumb over the red phone button and end the call before Itsuki can say his farewells or hang up on you first.

Slipping your burner back into your pocket, you hum a pleased hum.

Marcus and Jesús are on their way to Staten Island, Cuda is waiting for Kingpin's street gangs to join him in Harlem, and Itsuki is already settling in Queens. Everything is going according to plan, for now at least. They can take care of themselves, though.

You stretch yourself out against the cement roof and relax under the vast blue sky.

Slowly but surely, you start to hear mutters. The muttering increased greatly in volume as twenty or so minutes pass by. Camera clicks and shutters follow a long time after.

Either the conference is about to start or the press has shown up in full force.

>[ ] Kip-up and look over the edge, you must see the faces of your clueless masses.
>[ ] Just lay back and relax, it's not like you need to see it go down.
>[ ] Call Marcus and hold out your phone, he needs to hear this.
>[ ] Flip out your phone and call Silvio, it is about to begin.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3490213
>[ ] Kip-up and look over the edge, you must see the faces of your clueless masses.
Just a little peek. That's all. Holding out our phone is inviting Fate to let it slip from our hands and drawing attention to us above here. Calling Silvio could distract him from his role in what comes next. Stealthily peeking out to watch is the ideal thing here.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Kip-up and look over the edge, you must see the faces of your clueless masses.

>(1/2)

There's little way they're going to know you if you don't look upon them and know them. Of course, you can't exactly have them look upon you just yet. They are going to know you, though.

Everyone is going to know You.

Putting your hands on the cement beneath your head, you lift your legs and balance yourself on your upper body before pushing yourself back onto your feet.

You stretch out vivacious form before stepping forward to the edge and peeking down at the noise.

A wide red carpet is set before and under the podium. Walking along the majestic material is a group of suited men surrounding a familiar old man carrying a suitcase and a little girl. Two loud speakers are set at the sidewalks' sides. Countless professional looking people are corralled behind barriers blocking off access to the building and the sidewalk around it, confining them to the car-less road.

It seems as though Silvio used his influence to close off the road for this. Either that or the city agreed out of interest or because Silvio talked them into it. Knowing the old man, it was probably a mix of both: city needs some sort of closure for the fat man's death.

Silvio makes his way behind the podium as his granddaughter stands off to its side, smiling at the dozens of flashes directed their way.

You watch the relic of New York's olden days wrap a hand around the podium microphone and press down on it.

Piercing feedback fills the air for a moment or two, drowning out and silencing the crowd, before dissipating.

A false somber expression makes its way on to the old mans face.

"Citizens of New York, I am Silvio Manfredi, and, yes, the reason I called you all here today so close to the area where Wilson Fisk was murdered in his own home is related to that horrific crime."

>(2/2)

Immediately, the crowd begins to gasp, murmur, and buzz.

Silvio begins to undo the suitcases latches.

"Years ago, Wilson Fisk left an item of great importance in my care, an item I have brought with me here today: the true reason why I brought you all before this historic landmark, and this immeasurable work of art."

The crowd's murmurs and buzzing lessen.

The old man opens the suitcase, grabs the document inside, and holds the most valuable piece of paper in a thousand miles out in front of him for all to see.

"Wilson Fisk's last will and testament."

Your ears slightly throb as the crowd explodes in shocked cries, exclamations, and gasps.

Silvio sets the document on the podium and focuses away from the chaotic crowd.

"I, Wilson Grant Fisk, bequeath all my earthly possessions, wealth, and estates to Kojo Reyes, an underprivileged African-Mexican mutant with distinct horns." The old man's grey eyes and voice fill with false suspicion. "His father was an old friend of mine that I had wronged. After Kojo saved my life, I discovered the relation and want to do right by his son for all I took from his father." He looks up from the document to face the utterly baffled crowd. "May he hear news of this one day in event of my death if I can not find him to set things right in life."

A wild grin spreads across your face as you cover your eyes to muffle the even louder burst of cries, questions, and murmuring.

He or Felon might've changed a few things but boy did they fucking deliver. There's no way you won't be the talk of the town now. Of course, you can't reveal yourself just yet. Best course of action is to have Silvio schedule another conference sometime from now where he presents you to the world and you hand yourself over to the police in full view of everyone to display your regret and nobility; they'd eat that shit up.

Everything is in Your hands now.

There's no reason for you to stick around but it might be good to hold out and see if Silvio answers any questions the right way or the wrong one.

>[ ] Stand around and listen to the questions being asked, you have to know.
>[ ] Take out your burner and call John Sublime, time to set boundaries.
>[ ] Jump to a faraway rooftop and play a fitting song, you've won.
>[ ] Hop to Strange's, you've got magic lessons to continue.
>[ ] Make your way back to Hunts Point, it is home.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3490604
>[ ] Stand around and listen to the questions being asked, you have to know.
>[ ] (to Bold Red) I still can't believe that plan actually worked. It was incredible wasn't it?
>[ ] Make your way back to Hunts Point, it is home. Play a fitting victory song there instead.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) before class if I can and in the afternoon if I can't.

Any thoughts or questions?

>>3490601
>Everyone is going to know You.
KOJO KNOWS YOU fucking when?

>>3490604
>>[X] Stand around and listen to the questions being asked, you have to know.
>>[X] Hop to Strange's, you've got magic lessons to continue
Can maybe get one more lesson in before things get complicated.

>>3490891
+1

>>3490891
>implying he hasn't already seen the news
>implying he isn't going to teleport in and give us shit for it the moment we jump within 5 blocks of his house

Voting closed; writing now.

File: Spoiler Image (172 KB, 900x1600)

172 KB JPG

>[X] Stand around and listen to the questions being asked, you have to know.
>[X] I still can't believe that plan actually worked. It was incredible wasn't it?
>[X] Hop to Strange's, you've got magic lessons to continue.

>(1/2)

You can't just leave without hearing if Silvio's going to answer any questions. He needs to handle them well to stave off suspicion that he was in any way involved in the assassination. Ultimately, the way he handles this situation reflects on how he's going to present you in the future. If he can't thwart enough suspicion, it's going to make your grand reveal to the world suspicious.

Sliding your hands off your ears, you chuckle to yourself.

I still can't believe that plan actually worked. It was incredible wasn't it?

Yes, most impressive, little Mind. They will know You and I in due time; all will know. When they look upon You and I for what You and I truly are, they will know You and I.

The crowd's chorus of discord is drowned somewhat out by a voice.

"Mr. Manfredi, why did Wilson Fisk entrust you with his last will and testament?!"

A small laugh escapes the old man's lips.

"I'm not quite sure: he handed it over to me silently with a strange regretful air about him after I witnessed him sign it. Whether or not it was an apology for our hostile business-related interactions with one another or a sign of respect is beyond me and well beyond any of us here."

Once again, the crowd's buzzing grows before being drowned out by another person.

"Silvio Manfredi, do you have any idea who assassinated Wilson Fisk or why?!"

The old lion shakes his head.

"All I know is that it was a terrible incident that everyone here and everyone in this city, including myself, deeply mourns. I hope the murderer will be found and brought to justice as soon as possible, for our sakes and Wilson's."

Yelling, muttering, and whispering fill the air and are subsumed by a louder voice.

"Mr. Manfredi, do you know who this 'Kojo Reyes' is?!"

Once again, Silvio shakes his head albeit slower.

"No, though that last name...sounds all too familiar. It could just be a coincidence: Reyes is a common Latino name."

For the umpteenth time, the crowd explodes in noise before being drowned out by a single, youthful voice.

"Did you say this African-Mexican mutant had horns?!"

Manfredi raises a curious eyebrow at the source and nods his head.

"Yes, that is what is directly written in Fisk's last will and testament."

A single booming voice overrides the crowd and fills your ears with its rage.

"Parker! What did I say about asking stupid questions that aren't written on the script!"

The youthful voice murmurs as the rest of the crowd lays silent for once.

Mr. Hate growls.

"That's right! Don't ask them! Now apologize to Mr. Manfredi for hurting his hearing with your stupid yelling!"

File: Spoiler Image (304 KB, 600x1541)

304 KB JPG

>(2/2)

You look over the edge of the roof down at the crowd and see a white teenager in a blue shirt with a grey undershirt with brown pants and a handbag slung over his torso covering his ears with an angry middle-aged white man at his side.

Images of a paper publisher fill your mind as the man takes notice of the stares and silence around him and his apparent bitch boy.

An awkward laugh escapes J. Jonah Jameson's lips.

"Nevermind that, folks! You can go back to asking your questions!"

You blink and turn to the direction of Silvio and see Sofia glancing up at you from the corner of her eye, smiling.

Smiling back, you give a small wave and take a step back before pausing as your red-on-black eyes meet a light brown some good distance away.

The publisher's sidekick doesn't blink or widen his eyes but furrows his brow.

A frown makes its way on to your face as you step back from the edge.

It seems as if the kid's the only one that saw you. Everyone was too distracted by that blow-hard Jonah to see you or notice Sofia notice you.

Picking up your guitar case, you cluck your tongue as you turn to Strange's.

The kid seemed to recognized you, though, and directly asked Silvio about your horns.

You take off into the cityscape growling.

He already knows You.

It takes you a few minutes of fast hopping to land in front of the open door of the magic house.

Wong bows and raises an eyebrow at your guitar case before turning and leading you into the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Several minutes and dozens of bookcases pass by until you enter the atrium where you first studies magic with Strange in.

The Sorcerer floats down from his assigned mystical floaty spot and raises a curious eyebrow at your guitar case.

"Are you moving in or dedicating a song to me?"

You scoff.

As if you'd ever write a song for him.

>[ ] "Do you have anything I could eat? Something that's edible to earthly consumption, I mean."
>[ ] "I'm going to be living with you for a while, yes."
>[ ] "Let's get down to magical business shall we?"
>[ ] "...You haven't heard the news, have you?"
>[ ] Sit down, pop open the case, and play a song. Why not?
>[ ] Write In.

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

>>3491345
>>[X] Sit down, pop open the case, and play a song. Why not?
sure why not

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Sit down, pop open the case, and play a song. Why not?

May as well play a victory song here if you're not going to do it over at the warehouse. It's not going to be a total victory song like you'd totally rock at the base, but it's still a victory song. He's going to know what you did and who you are if you went with your total victory tune.

You sit down, undo the latches of your guitar case, pop it open, and pull out your guitar.

The Sorcerer Supreme blinks at the wooden instrument.

"...I actually thought you put clothes in that as an improvised suitcase."

Rolling your eyes, you move your hands into position.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_q7hjlyLj2U

You flick your fingers softly and methodically across the cords.

Strange and Wong stare as you play the most famous and easily recognizable victory song of all time.

It's nowhere near the tone to describe your victory today. This is the basic bitch 'heroic' victory song everyone plays when they've done something moderately difficult. You've done something that will irreparable alter this city in your image. Now, that's something worthy of a victory song and certainly not a victory song any average nobody will play.

Your fingers dance along the stainless steel strings and pick up in speed, hitting each and every one of the song's notes.

The sorcerers gaze with impressed eyes at the iconic 'We are the champions' phase of the song.

A hum building in your throat follows along with the all too memorable tune.

Slowly and steadily, you move to 'No time for losers' and finish with the 'We are the champions...of the world!' part.

Both magic men blink their stupid eyes and clap their hands together in applause.

You stand up and give a meager bow.

Not the song you wanted to play but you'll accept their praise nonetheless.

The Sorcerer Supreme stops clapping and hums.

"I'm not sure what I did to warrant such a popular song but I'm happy to be serenaded nonetheless."

Once again, you scoff.

Like you played that song for him, which you pretty much did but didn't want.

>[ ] "Do you have anything I could eat? Something that's edible to earthly consumption, I mean."
>[ ] "I'm going to be living with you for a while too."
>[ ] "Let's get down to magical business shall we?"
>[ ] "...You haven't heard the news, have you?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3492410
>while too."
>>[X] "Let's get down to magical business shall we?"
Let's not tip our hand too much.
I'd rather not give Strange more information than he already has.

Plus, we gotta learn how to make magical prison wine.

Spider-Man and Murdock are going to be tricky hurdles.
We know they know something, but, for once, Kojo doesn't know.

>>3492410
>>[ ] "Let's get down to magical business shall we?"

Voting close; writing now.

>[X] "Let's get down to magical business shall we?"

That's more than enough guitar playing for one day. If you keep strumming for the littlest things, it'll lose its meaning. You've got magic studies to continue and dominate. Once you're done with them all, you won't need to keep coming to Strange anymore. Probably won't be able to finish them with your identity starting to get out there, though.

"Let's get down to magical business shall we?"

Strange raises an eyebrow.

"Alright, no need to be so hostile: you are the one who decided to play that song after all."

You put your guitar back in its case, shut it, and lock its latches before standing back up with it in hand.

"I've got a lot of pent up energy right now; I do crazy shit when that happens. Like, I just played a song for you when I had absolutely no reason to."

The magic man crosses his arms.

"Helping you learn the magic arts wasn't enough?"

Nodding, you smile a cruel smile.

"There's a freaking invisible magical third eye on my forehead: it was your responsibility to teach me so I could control it."

Strange shoots you a look.

"I haven't been teaching you anything that could help you with that."

You snap your free fingers into pointing at the vampiric dressed sorcerer accusingly.

"Exactly!"

A groan escapes the doctor's lips.

"You are behaving very strangely today."

Rolling your eyes, you look off to the side of the room.

"Oh please, I'm just in a good mood."

Strange furrows his brow.

"If this is how you are in a good mood, I'd hate to see you in a bad one."

You look back and hum in confirmation.

Pissed you is less of a bitchy, catty playful sonofabitch and more of a quiet seething torturer.

>[ ] "Before we do any of that, I have something to say. My name isn't just Kojo: its Kojo Reyes. I've been on the run from the Hand for my entire life. Do you know about them? They don't die when I kill them."
>[ ] "Let's go over where we left off on sigils, I'm way closer to mastering that than anything else right now."
>[ ] "Show me how to draw powers from the gods, I want to see what they've got to offer."
>[ ] "Hand me a book about portals again, I could use a better form of transportation."
>[ ] "You do know I've been lying to you constantly since we first met, right?"
>[ ] "Wong, could you put this case in a safe place?"
>[ ] Write In.

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

Any thoughts or questions?

Are you guys excited?

>>3493072
Hype train mf

>>3492709
>[ ] "Let's go over where we left off on sigils, I'm way closer to mastering that than anything else right now."

>>3492709
>>[X] "Hand me a book about portals again, I could use a better form of transportation."
Seems useful if we're going to go to jail. Just in case we need to make a trip.
Unless someone has a better idea.

>>3493072
Eager to see what comes next.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>[X] "Let's go over where we left off on sigils, I'm way closer to mastering that than anything else right now."

>[X] "Hand me a book about portals again, I could use a better form of transportation."

>>3492709
>>[X] "Let's go over where we left off on sigils, I'm way closer to mastering that than anything else right now."

>[X] "Hand me a book about portals again, I could use a better form of transportation."

>(1/2)

Considering the fact you're going to be locked in a cage for a while, teleportation might be useful for getting out. There's bound to be cameras and guards posted all around you, though. You could easily conjure an illusion to conceal your disappearance with basic sorcery to make up for that. Although, it might get caught on video. It's best to learn it just in case you fail the trial.

"Hand me a book about portals again, I could use a better form of transportation."

The Grand Wizard makes a gesture at your direction and a tome flies from one of the second floor's bookshelves towards you.

Raising your free hand, you catch the book before it can hit you in your horned head.

"Are you actually trying to hit me when you do that?"

Strange shrugs.

"Maybe, maybe not."

You cluck your tongue, sit yourself down, and turn open the book.

"Aren't you teacher of the year?"

Mr. Supreme chuckles to himself.

"If you think I'm horrible, you should have met my predecessor: he would've driven you mad."

>(2/2)

Scoffing, you focus on reading your book.

Three hours of reading, mini portal casting, listening to Strange lecture, theory discussion, and playing ping-pong portal with yourself pass by.

You stare with boredom as you flick portal after portal in existence, shooting the same crumpled piece of ancient enchanted paper at a portal to shoot back at yourself of which you conjure yet another portal to repeat the process ad-infinitum.

"It's super easy on this small scale but insane when trying to make one big enough to fall through."

Strange stares at the teleporting paper in dismay.

"...Maybe if you read that page more slowly to understand it you wouldn't have as much trouble."

Chuckling, you catch the crumpled page, letting your mini-portal mock opponents dissipate.

"I'm sure just picturing shit in my head like it recommended would've worked oh so well."

The sorcerer sighs.

"Please refrain from desecrating any more of my magical tomes; they were gifted to me by my master. One day, perhaps you will take my place and be in need of their information. Show some respect for them and sorcery while I'm teaching you, for now."

You blink and hum.

It seems like you actually managed to piss him off for once.

>[ ] "Before we continue, I have something to say. My name isn't just Kojo: its Kojo Reyes. I've been on the run from the Hand for my entire life. Do you know about them? They don't die when I kill them."
>[ ] "...I'm sorry, old man. You just don't seem to care that much about these things sometimes. To be honest, you make magic come off more as a skill than an actual practice like you say it is."
>[ ] "Let's go back over where we left off on sigils, I'm way closer to mastering that than anything else right now."
>[ ] "Show me how to draw powers from the gods, I want to see what they've got to offer."
>[ ] "You do know I've been lying to you constantly since we first met, right?"
>[ ] "Wong, could you put this case in a safe place?"
>[ ] Continue your portaling, your slowly but steadily getting there.
>[ ] Write In.

Forgive the wait. Really out of it this morning.

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

>>3493905
>>[X] "...I'm sorry, old man. [muster up some appearance of sincerity] You just don't seem to care that much about these things sometimes. To be honest, you make magic come off more as a skill than an actual practice like you say it is."
Yeah, he throws books at you and then expects you to respect them?

>>[X] Continue your portaling, you are slowly but steadily getting there.

>>3493918
Waits are fine, but then anons might miss the update and not check back until many hours later.
I know I do.
Of course, I thought you were taking a longer break then usual because I missed the new thread like a dunce, so maybe it's just me.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...I'm sorry, old man. You just don't seem to care that much about these things sometimes. To be honest, you make magic come off more as a skill than an actual practice like you say it is."
>[X] Continue your portaling, you are slowly but steadily getting there.

>(1/2)

His behavior doesn't exactly indicate these tomes much less sorcery itself is worth that much respect. It's not like there's any other sorcery practitioners around besides Wong to take it seriously. Strange is the Grand Wizard of some magical Tibetan monk and just barely you. Maybe if this place were as active as an actual college campus or a monastery you'd be more respectful. Without any support, care, or defined purpose, sorcerer supreme is just a hollow title and these books mean little. He might go out saving this realm for extradimensional threats from time to time, but there's not much to show for it or even prove it other than his words.

Letting out a feigned sigh, you look the sorcerer in his eyes with your demonic three.

"...I'm sorry, old man." You put on an insincere sorry face. "You just don't seem to care that much about these things sometimes. To be honest, you make magic come off more as a skill than an actual practice like you say it is."

The sorcerer stares at you for a moment before hanging his head in concession.

"You're right, I do treat magic like a skill rather than a practice: I fling magical tomes at you as if they were paperweights or needless college textbooks yet expect you to value them." Strange lifts his head. "...Kojo, you're the first person I've ever taught sorcery. I've never done so in the past due to viewing such a thing as unnecessary, but the upturn of abnormal conflict and extraterrestrial hostilities has seeded doubts in my mind as of late. I don't know what my master wanted of me besides defending this world when I became sorcerer supreme, but I doubt he would look favorably upon my lack of educating in these trying times. While you're not exactly the most perfect student, it is my responsibility to help you with your condition and prepare a safeguard for the world against supernatural and alien threats. I'm sorry I have led you to believe me not to be here for either or that my teachings are little more than useful parlor tricks."

They are parlor tricks.

You and Wong blink at your magic tutor.

>(2/2)

For once, he actually seems like the Sorcerer Supreme he claims himself to be. Maybe he is worthy of your respect: anyone who can admit they were wrong to act a certain way certainly is, better so if they said they wrong about their beliefs.

A shame he's probably going to figure out your even more disreputable than you seem to be.

You shoot the vampiric-looking man a smile before opening up his ripped magical tome once again.

Three more hours of reading over space-time theories, magical philosophy, hearing Strange lecture, and teleporting actual non-magical books around pass.

Letting the soft normal book hit you in the face, you let yourself fall down on to your back.

Strange's chuckle emanates some ways in front of you.

"You're getting closer to conjuring a portal big enough for a human. Keep at it and you'll be able to teleport yourself anywhere you can envision that properly exists."

You raise an eyebrow at the ceiling.

"Properly?"

The odd man teleports himself to stand directly over you.

"Anywhere that isn't a person's mind, a magically constructed false reality, or a dream world, which falls somewhat into the mind category. It's an incredibly complex idea you will learn when moving on to quite possibly the most advanced areas of magic."

A groan escapes your lips.

Those theories are going to be a complete bitch in trying to understand.

>[ ] "Before we continue, I have something to say. My name isn't just Kojo: its Kojo Reyes. I've been on the run from the Hand for my entire life. Do you know about them? They don't die when I kill them."
>[ ] "Let's go back over where we left off on sigils, I'm way closer to mastering that than anything else right now."
>[ ] "Show me how to draw powers from the gods, I want to see what they've got to offer."
>[ ] "You do know I've been lying to you constantly since we first met, right?"
>[ ] "Wong, could you put this case in a safe place?"
>[ ] Keep going, you're learning how to think with portals.
>[ ] Write In.

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

Any thoughts or questions?

>>3494934
>>[X] "Show me how to draw powers from the gods, I want to see what they've got to offer."
We should probably get some instruction regarding this.
But perfecting portals would be good too.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Show me how to draw powers from the gods, I want to see what they've got to offer."

>(1/2)

You've been holding off on learning how to call upon the gods for power for a while now. It's unlike you to depend on anyone's power but your own. Besides that, your soul is a primal force of nature that devours other souls. Celestial entities might turn out to be different, though, if your physical encounter with Death was any indication. Although, you are comparing super existences to what is effectively a universal law. That which is you is very much likely to hunger over that which they are.

Putting the flat of your palms against the ground beneath your horns, you kip-up back on to your feet, standing yourself directly in front of your magic tutor.

"Show me how to draw powers from the gods, I want to see what they've got to offer."

The smile on the stranger's face flattens.

"I've been waiting for you to bring that up; I asked the Vishanti about you, and they refused to give me any answers. It seems as if they're just as confused as I am of your existence and maybe even a little afraid. They might reject you if you call out to them."

A small hum rumbles in your throat.

It seems like no one really knows or understands what you are. Death and the Phoenix whisper vague shit into your head that doesn't really lead anywhere. Not even you can understand yourself; you don't even understand whatever it is your soul calls itself. Every fiber of your being just can't comprehend what it is saying.

You shrug.

"I guess I'll just have to call on other gods then."

>(2/2)

Strange furrows his brow.

"That may pose a grievous risk depending on which god you call out to. You channeled the ultimate entropy when you first imbued something with magic; I fear you'll call to malevolent gods that may seek to manipulate and control you. I'm more than happy to help you with this, but I think it might be better for you to save drawing the power of gods for when you move on to the more advanced magics. You'll be able to protect yourself better from their influence with experienced sorcery."

Clucking your tongue, you roll your eyes.

"Don't present a magic and then say I can't do it right when I bring it up: just seems lazy and negligent. What would you have done if I tried contacting the gods on my own? Just accept the incoming extra-dimensional invasion with a possessed me at the head?"

Magic Doc stares at you silently.

"...Yes."

You blink.

"Wow, you're a really bad teacher: you pretend to care when really you don't give a shit."

Strange shakes his head.

"Those are college professors you're thinking of. I actually do care about you, not quite a great deal mind you, but I do." He raises a hand to his chin. "Come to think of it, besides the unfortunate location of your home and upbringing, I don't actually know much about you personally."

Another hum rumbles in your throat.

He's probably going to figure out a lot in the coming days.

>[ ] "You do know I've been lying to you constantly since we first met, right?"
>[ ] "Just name a few gods that are alright or morally grey or some shit."
>[ ] "The more distant we are, the better the both of us will be."
>[ ] "Fine, let's go over sigils again, I'm almost there."
>[ ] "...My name isn't just Kojo: it's Kojo Reyes."
>[ ] "Alright, more portals, I guess."
>[ ] "Do you really want to know me?"
>[ ] Write In.

On break, just read, Got a complicated vote coming later.

>>3496635
>>[X] "Do you really want to know me?"
>>[X] "It hasn't really been a concern for you before and I don't really know you, either. I have had to do a lot of things in my life, some I regret and some I wish that I could undo." (technically true) "But you haven't judged me on my past or the fact that I am a mutant. You've just judged me as a student. Just like I have judged you as a teacher and not by your fashion sense."
>>[X] "Do you think that maybe, the more distant we are, the better the both of us will be?"
>>[X] "Alright, unless you can name a few gods that are alright or morally grey or some shit, then more portals, I guess."
I hope *that* might keep Strange from digging too deep or becoming too bothered when he learns more of the truth.

Sigils are good too, but I want portals in our back pocket for a prison break, or just to open up under Marcus for a laugh.

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

Any thoughts or questions?

Updates are going to get a bit bumpy. Fuck load of semester ending assignments are getting dumped on my plate.

>>3496635
This >>3497350 is good shit

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Do you really want to know me?"
>[X] "It hasn't really been a concern for you before and I don't really know you, either. I have had to do a lot of things in my life, some I regret and some I wish that I could undo. But you haven't judged me on my past or the fact that I am a mutant. You've just judged me as a student. Just like I have judged you as a teacher and not by your fashion sense."
>[X] "Do you think that maybe, the more distant we are, the better the both of us will be?"
>[X] "Alright, unless you can name a few gods that are alright or morally gray or some shit, then more portals, I guess."

>(1/2)

Strange might want to know you now, but he's probably going to regret it later. You and him will never be the same afterward, not that there was much of a relationship to begin with. It's obvious you're too much of a risk to leave alone if you take everything about you and your current position into account. Hearing news of the press conference and seeing your full name in the papers is bound to give him some idea of who you are and what you've done. You'll have to get everything you want to learn off him before then or somehow convince him you're innocent to keep up your magic studies under him. Finding another sorcerer to teach you or going about it yourself will take far too much time.

"Do you really want to know me?"

The magic man nods.

"Yes, I'm very much sure I do."

A sigh escapes your lips.

"It hasn't really been a concern for you before and I don't really know you, either. I have had to do a lot of things in my life, some I regret and some I wish that I could undo. But you haven't judged me on my past or the fact that I am a mutant. You've just judged me as a student. Just like I have judged you as a teacher and not by your fashion sense."

Mr. Sorcerer Supreme of Two People crosses his arms and shoots you a look.

"This is a garb in the traditional style of my master's old clothes, and I don't enough about your past to actually judge you. If anything, I'm going to be judging you more on your present behavior than your past; actually, I'm doing it right now. You seem to be avoiding actually giving away any personal information. Despite what appears to be your background and lack of actual notoriety, you're adamant on not telling me anymore than what you feel I need to know. It all signals to me that you're hiding something."

>(2/2)

You twitch ever so slightly as you realize how painfully obvious that is with your tone and even more so taking your past words into account.

All you've done is dug yourself deeper into the suspicion well. If you just left your awkward and hostile avoidance alone on its own, you would've stayed the damaged street mutant you came across as. Telling a half-truth would've saved your ass and possibly left you on good terms when he hears the news. Now, he's just going to be suspicious of you.

"Do you think that maybe, the more distant we are, the better the both of us will be?"

The Second Sorcerer Supreme of Earth shakes his head.

"No, not at all."

Clucking your tongue, you avert your eyes.

"Alright, unless you can name a few gods that are alright or morally gray or some shit, then more portals, I guess."

Strange shoots you a look.

"...Well, the Greco-Roman mythology could be considered 'morally grey' by today's standards."

You let out a small hum.

The Greek and Roman gods are absolute fuck heads if their stories are any true but they're probably the only ones willing to risk anything interacting with your soul eater ass.

>[ ] "Let's get back to portals. I don't need this."
>[ ] "I scorch the land with you, Mars."
>[ ] "You lurk in my shadow, Mercury."
>[ ] "My eyes seek wisdom, Minerva."
>[ ] "Apollo, tell me of my fate."
>[ ] "Venus, feel my passion."
>[ ] "Artemis, hunt with me."
>[ ] Write In.

well who's the LEAST of a asshole of the Options?
is Aphrodite an option because i don't really remember her being that much of an asshole just kind of a slut
not too terrible by today's standers

>>3497924
Aphrodite is Venus. Kojo uses the Roman names instead of the Greek because the Greeks were losers who got fucked by everyone.

Artemis is still Artemis because Artemis' meaning is actually pretty badass.

>>3497890
>[ ] "You lurk in my shadow, Mercury."
"Fire walk with me" WHEN?????
Also didnt Mercury have mother and father issues too?
>inb4 all Greco-Roman gods lmao

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "You lurk in my shadow, Mercury."

As of a while ago, you were made a king of thieves. Maybe that will grant you the old god of thieves' favor, if you don't instinctively try to eat him. His nature isn't really in tune with your own so that might lessen those chances or increase them. Worst case scenario is you eat him, piss off every one of the Greco-Roman gods, and expose your soul's true monstrous nature to Strange. Those first two are more likely, but Strange's weird hocus pocus could make him see what's going on.

Closing all three of your eyes, you focus your mind on the celestial planes and the messenger god's portfolios.

"You lurk in my shadow, Mercury."

Silence fills the air before it softly begins to swirl around your body.

Your body tenses as your mind is overpowered by the instinctual unease of your soul.

I have not been called upon in many years. Just what exactly are you who has called me here? You are no mortal being, not anymore at least, yet you keep to your flesh like a caterpillar refusing to metamorphosis. It is as if you are a newborn god birthed of nature not of Mother Gaia and untwisted by belief. By all means, your existence is a peculiar one.

Parting your lips, you attempt to say something before they softly close, your unease completely disappearing.

I am _________________, Mercury. Odd how I feel the urge to devour you but find myself capable restraining my hunger. Perhaps it is because your essence still lies in another realm with the rest of the Olympians.

The air around you stops swirling and rests still once again.

...You cannot be what you claim to be.

A primal feeling of superiority engulfs you.

Yet I Am, prey; I need nothing more to justify my identity. Serve or be devoured as all things that can not be broken, dominated, or ravaged will be. Little Mind seeks your power.

All lies silent again for but a moment.

...What?

You blink as you feel your soul's influence disappear.

That was quite possibly the worst thing you could've said during your first time meeting a god but at least you didn't fucking eat him.

>[ ] That's going to happen from time to time. Are you okay with that?
>[ ] What is it that he said he was? I can never understand.
>[ ] Should I get in touch with another god or are we cool?
>[ ] Forgive... me, I'm not exactly in control.
>[ ] Do you prefer Mercury or Hermes?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3498603
>[ ] Yeah, that's the OTHER me. He tends to be that way. Not much I can do about that.
>[ ] What is it that he said he was? I can never understand, it comes out blank to me.
>[ ] I was wondering if I could benefit from your power somehow. I recently became Kingpin of all criminals in New York City; is that good enough for you?
>[ ] By the way, do you prefer Mercury or Hermes? Any other names you particularly like?

>>3498734
Support

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3498603
And I thought steering Kojo was like guiding a sleigh through mud.
Boldred is going to be a handful of this keeps up.

>>3498734
I approve.

>[X] Yeah, that's the other me. He tends to be that way. Not much I can do about that.
>[X] What is it that he said he was? I can never understand, it comes out blank to me.
>[X] I was wondering if I could benefit from your power somehow. I recently became Kingpin of all criminals in New York City; is that good enough for you?
>[X] By the way, do you prefer Mercury or Hermes? Any other names you particularly like?

Of course you're going to try and clarify this situation as best as you can: doing otherwise would fuck you over in terms of making friends with the Olympians. Mercury being the messenger god could easily do that and possibly the same thing with other pantheons too; whatever power you could borrow from them would be far out of your grasp. It's not that much of a loss considering you never had it to begin with, but power is power.

A sigh escapes your lips.

Yeah, that's the other me. He tends to be that way. Not much I can do about that.

The wind sightly breezes around your body.

...How strange that a newborn god would still have a mortal mind. Either you are not of him or he is not of you or your existences are flawed somehow. It could explain why he thinks of himself as what he says he is.

You hum.

What is it that he said he was? I can never understand, it comes out blank to me.

All the breezes around you stop.

He claims to be...something that nothing spawned from any plane of existence can be. Although, he is a strange alien existence. There are beings that have hungered for the essence of gods before but never have they spawned from the flesh of a mortal man.

Clucking your tongue, you cross your arms.

I was wondering if I could benefit from your power somehow. I recently became Kingpin of all criminals in New York City; is that good enough for you?

A foreign confused feeling flows over your body.

It is quite impressive especially in this day and age of yours, but you didn't need to do that to earn my favor. A simple prayer or offering would have been enough. Just talking to me as you are now would've been sufficient as well.

You blink your big red-on-black eyes.

That's awfully humble for a god to ask for, but he is a messenger god.

By the way, do you prefer Mercury or Hermes? Any other names you particularly like?

The confusion disappears.

Mercury is fine and brings back memories of happier times; Hermes is nothing more than a reminder of how far I and all other Olympians have fallen.

Another hum rumbles in your throat.

You're still unsure of how gods work but it'd make some sense for worship to tie into it.

>[ ] You mentioned something about being born from Mother Gaia?
>[ ] Alright, show me how to channel your divine power.
>[ ] Just what are you Olympians anyway?
>[ ] Do you think I could kill a god?
>[ ] Write In.

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

Any thoughts or questions?

>>3498931
>[ ] You mentioned something about being born from Mother Gaia?
>[ ] Just what are you Olympians anyway?
>[ ] Alright, show me how to channel your divine power.
>[ ] Any other deities or entities you could reccommend or warn me against calling?
Merc sounds like a surprisingly stand-up guy. Must be that ROMAN influence

>>3499337
Gonna support this.

>>3499337
i want to know more

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] You mentioned something about being born from Mother Gaia?
>[X] Just what are you Olympians anyway?
>[X] Alright, show me how to channel your divine power.
>[X] Any other deities or entities you could recommend or warn me against calling?

The other you has made mention of Mother Gaia several times before. It seems to be the force that manages the planet's energies, but it could easily be something greater than just that. The Norse 'gods' are just glorified aliens yet the Olympians seem to be the real thing. Bound to be a reason for that or a distinction at least.

You mentioned something about being born from Mother Gaia?

A strange calm feeling washes over you.

Mother Gaia, the last of the Elder Gods. She was here long before any pantheon and will likely be here long after we are gone. All gods of this planet were born of her bounty: we are all her children. You, however, bear signs of the great void birds' tampering and have a twisted soul in conflict with itself.

Raising an eyebrow, you look up at the sky through the atrium skylight.

Great Void Birds could mean a lot of things, but you've seen more than share of alien spaceships to assume that's what he's talking about and not some weird extra-dimensional beings.

Just what are you Olympians anyway?

The calmness dissipates.

Gods, obviously. Not the most powerful but some of the most ancient and once the most worshiped. We are nothing more than legends in history books and 'myth' studies now, though. Some do call out to us for favors and power occasionally, like you.

You cluck your tongue.

Alright, show me how to channel your divine power.

The wind around you immediately begins to swirl in a wild gust.

Call upon me as you have and take the power into your hands.

You will the swirl of energy to your hands and look down at them.

It's not that impressive but it'll do if you're ever in a pinch and need a gust of wind on your side.

Any other deities or entities you could recommend or warn me against calling?

The wind in your hands dissipates.

Any that are like you and none that are your opposite.

You raise an eyebrow at the god's words and cross your arms.

That wasn't useful to hear at all.

Strange's grey eyes stare into your red-on-black expectingly.

You blink as you realize he's been watching you this whole time.

How weird of him but, then again, he has nothing else to do.

>[ ] "Let's get back to portals; I've got this down."
>[ ] "Sigils, sigils, sigils. Let's finish those."
>[ ] "I scorch the land with you, Mars."
>[ ] "My eyes seek wisdom, Minerva."
>[ ] "Apollo, tell me of my fate."
>[ ] "Venus, feel my passion."
>[ ] "Artemis, hunt with me."
>[ ] "...What? What?"
>[ ] Who are these great void birds you speak of?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3499957
>[ ] Who are these great void birds you speak of?
>[ ] Thank you for your time Mercury.
>[ ] "...What? What?"

>>3500180
support

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Who are these great void birds you speak of?
>[X] Thank you for your time Mercury.
>[X] "...What? What?"

>(1/2)

It's obvious he's talking about weird space bird aliens or something akin to that kind of shit. You're not quite sure what the tampering signs are, though. He did separate it from your own twisted soul so it might be your horns, which means the 'great void birds' might be responsible for mutants or might have had a hand in their origins. Mutants being the result of alien experiments is somewhat far-fetched but it does kind of make sense when you take into account just how insane the mutations can be and how unlikely it is something like the X-gene would just appear naturally. You're just speculating, though; the truth is probably something else.

Who are these great void birds you speak of?

A feeling of wonder, mystery, and amazement washes over your form.

They came after the Great Titans were done with early humankind. Many people were herded into large metal ships, experimented with, and bred. Some came out looking different than the others and some were made gods among mortals, what you call 'mutants.' They turned against the Void Birds and began to drive them away from this world. In response, the Void Birds bred more gods and twisted them to hunt their own kind. Most were slaughtered but some learned to disobey their warped instincts and turned against their masters that twisted them. The Void Birds were eventually driven off this planet back into the void that spawned them. Although, they have been coming back as of late watching for signs of the avatar of Life.

Once again, you blink your big red-on-back eyes.

>(2/2)

That bit about the 'Great Titans' raises more questions, but you know what the great void birds were and maybe why you get cannibalistic urges on top of why you don't really seem to like being around other mutants. It could just be you seeing them as a potential rival, like any apex predator would, but it could be because you're an apex predator to them and aren't chowing down on their soft, bloody insides. You could also just naturally be a cannibalistic mutant descended from mutants who got experimented on and then rebelled; whatever it is, you'll probably never know for sure.

Thank you for your time Mercury.

The feeling dissapears.

You're welcome, Strange One.

You raise an eyebrow at your resident Strange weirdo.

"...What? What?"

Strange chuckles to himself.

"You've been stuck in conversation with Hermes for a while now. I was wondering if you'd ever notice me. Did he say anything at all about your third eye or your nature? The two of you seem to have hit it off with one another."

A hum rumbles in your throat.

He didn't really have anything to say but you might want to keep the Void Bird thing to yourself.

>[ ] "What exactly do you know about mutants? What's the source of our power? How can we do things that genetics have no place in?
>[ ] "He prefers Mercury. Not sure why, but I guess it's because that was his name back when his entire pantheon was big."
>[ ] "I've got a flawed existence or something, whatever the hell that means."
>[ ] "Let's get back to portals; I've got this down."
>[ ] "Sigils, sigils, sigils. Let's go finish those."
>[ ] "Are the Vishanti elder gods?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3500554
>[ ] "He prefers Mercury. Not sure why, but I guess it's because that was his name back when his entire pantheon was big."
>[ ] "Atlre the Vishanti elder gods? Mercury didn't comment on them or you, not sure why."
>[ ] "I've got a flawed existence or something, whatever the hell that means."
>[ ] "Let's get back to portals; I've got this down."
Ok yeah, Merc is based

>>3500895
support

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "He prefers Mercury. Not sure why, but I guess it's because that was his name back when his entire pantheon was big."
>[X] "Are the Vishanti elder gods? Mercury didn't comment on them or you, not sure why."
>[X] "I've got a flawed existence or something, whatever the hell that means."
>[X] "Let's get back to portals; I've got this down."

>(1/2)

Strange is probably going to be just as lost as you are on what Mercury said about your spiritual condition. Pretty much every being besides the cosmic manifestations of Life and Death don't really understand what you are; even then, they don't understand what the fuck is up with your head. Only you have an inkling on what's going on with you and you're still pretty fucking lost.

"He prefers Mercury. Not sure why, but I guess it's because that was his name back when his entire pantheon was big."

The magic man nods his head knowingly.

"All gods tend to prefer names that reflect them at their height. It's rather vain but I suppose it's only natural for everyone, mortals and gods alike, to long for good times. I apologize to Her- Mercury if I offended him in anyway."

You let out a small laugh.

"Are the Vishanti elder gods? Mercury didn't comment on them or you, not sure why."

Mr. Grand Wizard raises an eyebrow.

"The two of you spoke of the elder gods? Only Oshtur could be considered an elder god, but she left Earth before they could become demons. Agomotto is her child and Hoggoth is actually from an ancient alien pantheon. I'm not surprised Mercury didn't mention them, they're a completely different kind of god. As for me, I don't think he cares much beyond the occasional prayer for power."

Clucking your tongue, you shoot a look at your magic tutor.

Elder gods, Great Titans, alien space gods, demons, and bird alien mutant experimenters; there's bound to be a lot of other overcomplicated shit you're going to stumble upon.

"I've got a flawed existence or something, whatever the hell that means."

Strange sighs.

"How can it be that not even gods would have any idea what is happening to you?"

A scoff escapes your lips.

"You're asking me?"

>(2/2)

The Sorcerer Supreme shakes his head.

"How disappointing."

You hum in agreement.

"Let's get back to portals; I've got this down."

The book you set on the ground earlier levitates back up to be snatched by your hand.

Opening the magical tome, you sit yourself down and start reading where you left off on.

Yet another three hours of reading, theory reading, philosophy skimming, Strange lectures, and playing book port pong with super supreme pass.

Weaving your fingers through the air, you conjure a portal in front of the book propelled by Strange's portal and direct it at yet another portal of yours left open by your magic.

Strange blinks as a portal opens up behind him, sending the normal useless book rocketing with the velocity of several portal propulsions into the back of his skull.

You cackle as the vampirically dressed man falls down.

"Yes! I fucking got you!"

The Grand Wizard groans.

"I never knew how much a textbook could hurt someone non-financially."

Clapping your hands giddily, you chuckle to yourself.

Winning and making someone suffer always have a way of making you happy.

>[ ] "What exactly do you know about mutants? What's the source of our power? How can we do things that genetics have no place in?"
>[ ] "I think I've improved, don't you? That pain in the back of your head is proof. Let's keep going."
>[ ] "So, what exactly are Demons and how are the elder gods related to them?"
>[ ] "Sigils, sigils, sigils. Let's go finish those."
>[ ] "Do you know anything about Mother Gaia?"
>[ ] "You ever hear of the 'Great Titans?'"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3501311
>[ ] "I think I've improved, don't you? That pain in the back of your head is proof."
>[ ] Laugh it up, but in the funny joke kind of way.
>[ ] "So, what exactly are Demons and how are the elder gods related to them?"
>[ ] "Do you know anything about Mother Gaia? Mercury said all is born from her on this planet, and if I know my mythology right then she didn't always use to take nigh-eternal dirt naps."
>[ ] "You ever hear of the 'Great Titans?' Mercury mentioned them and early humans, whatever that means."

Going to a celebration. Will close voting and update when I get back if I'm not there late.

>>3501401
support

>>3501311
>>3501401
>>[X] "I think I've improved, don't you? That pain in the back of your head is proof."
>>[X] Laugh it up, but in the funny joke kind of way.
This is good.

>>[X] "So, what exactly are Demons and how are the elder gods related to them?"
This info might end up being important.

>>[X] "Do you know anything about Mother Gaia or the 'Great Titans?' Mercury mentioned them and early humans, whatever that means."
Conversationally.

>>[X] "Sigils. Let's go finish those."
Finally.

>>3502161
support

>>3501306
>"How can it be that not even gods would have any idea what is happening to you?"
Because we're something new and Gods are wise enough to not freely speculate on the unknown.

Fucking hell, it's hard being the only sober guy. At least I delivered the toast speech of the decade.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "I think I've improved, don't you? That pain in the back of your head is proof."
>[X] Laugh it up, but in the funny joke kind of way.
>[X] "So, what exactly are Demons and how are the elder gods related to them?"
>[X] "Do you know anything about Mother Gaia or the 'Great Titans?' Mercury mentioned them and early humans, whatever that means."
>[X] "Sigils. Let's go finish those."

>(1/2)

Mr. Sorcerer Supreme of fuck all and book caused head injuries probably knows something about Gaia, elder demons, and whatever the hell the 'Great Titans' are. His patron gods are the closest things to elder gods left in the world besides Gaia. Maybe his old master told him what happened those hundreds of thousand years ago.

First things first, enjoying your master's pain.

"I think I've improved, don't you? That pain in the back of your head is proof."

Strange slowly pushes himself back up as you giggle maliciously in a joking kind of way to soften the schadenfreude.

"...Yes, you have greatly improved, my prodigal cruel apprentice."

You relax yourself in your seated position.

"So, what exactly are Demons and how are the elder gods related to them?"

The wizard rubs the back of his head.

"They are what all elder gods became when they realized they could gain power by devouring one another. As they devoured each other, their desire for power twisted them from the noble elder gods they were into powerful demons who could only destroy and consume. Oshtur avoided this fate by leaving earth when she could. Magic and sorcery would've never been learned here on earth if not for that."

Your eyes widen ever so slightly.

Every time you devour someone's soul, your third eye's range grows as does your knowledge. The rush you get from consuming another being's essence is addicting and borders on being sexual. Death mentioned something about you losing yourself; it could have been when you faced yourself and Marcus back at the alley or it could just as easily be what happened to the elder gods.

Then again, you desired power far before you ever took to eating souls.

"Do you know anything about Mother Gaia or the 'Great Titans?' Mercury mentioned them and early humans, whatever that means."

Strange blinks his big dumb grey eyes.

"...Oh! Somehow I completely forgot about Gaia; she hasn't exactly been active in centuries. I suppose having a hand in nurturing this world, beating back the fallen elder gods, and helping form various pantheons around the planet must've taken its toll. If not for her, I'm sure none of us would be here. Not quite sure how she beat the elder gods back, but I think she had some kind of help. As for the 'Great Titans,' I have no idea who they are or who they could be."

A surprised hum rumbles in your throat.

>(2/2)

How one elder god could possibly beat back all the others sounds impossible. You're not sure how powerful elder gods actually are but numbers have their own power. Maybe only a few were left after all the others were done eating each other. Gaia could've maybe taken them out if she knew how to fight them without directly answering their power with her own. If not, her help must've been some kind of god-slayer or all around badass.

"Sigils. Let's go finish those."

Magic Wizard man sticks out a hand, catching a freshly portal'd familiar magical tome.

You snatch the book out of his hand and flip it open back to where you remembered your place.

Three hours of spell catalog reading, theory re-reading, sigil casting, and hearing Strange lecture pass by.

Weaving your dexterous and mighty fingers through the air, you conjure sigil after sigil into the air specifying the altering of senses, detonation at certain conditions, the gathering of multiversal energy, and safeguards around you if met with the appropriate conditions.

"Yeah, I think I'm done with Sigils."

Strange hums in agreement.

"Indeed you are, young master." The man says in a snobby servile British voice. "Shall I begin instructing you on the matters of teleportation or shall we rest and confer with tea?"

You cover your mouth with your hand and laugh into it.

The Grand Wizard raises an eyebrow.

"Pray hither, what is it that the young master finds so amusing?"

Wrapping your free arm around your side, you laugh even harder into your hand.

Strange blinks and shifts his gaze to the sigils, his eyes widening in realization.

"Oh fuck all kinds of geese."

You unwrap your arm from your side to beat your hand against the enchanted atrium tiles.

The moment your magic tutor sticks out his hand, the sigil gathering multiversal energy disperses and sets off the safeguard sigils, empowering them with the extra magical energy in a magical bubble shield around you as the explosive sigil activates in response to Strange's presence.

You cackle madly as Strange is sent rocketing to the other side of the room

Stretching out his arms, the wizard stops himself in mid-air and shoots your magic shield bubbled self a look.

"Really!?"

You do your best to nod as you writhe on the floor.

"That was fucking amazing!"

The wizard, slowly floating back down, shakes his head.

"You need to learn to be responsible with magic."

Laughter dying, your magic bubble shield dissipates.

If only he knew what you were going to do with what he's taught you.

>[ ] "Come on, let's sit down with some... with some... with some tea!"
>[ ] "I am being responsible: power is meant to be used."
>[ ] "Somehow a British accent really fits you."
>[ ] "You need to learn how to take a joke."
>[ ] "Let's finish portals!"
>[ ] Write In.

Got another celebration to go to. Will close voting and update when I get back. Hope I'm not there all day this time.

>>3503494
>>[X] "Somehow a British accent really fits you."
>>[X] "you should have seen the look on your face"

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Somehow a British accent really fits you."
>[X] "You should have seen the look on your face!"

The snobby Brit voice kind of fits the magic man's stupid exploded face. His Victorian-looking ass vampire clothes don't exactly help him look any less like a snobby Englishman. Really, he should try speaking with a British accent over his boring ass American one. It'll be amusing as hell and distract from what little non-existent authority he has from his hollow position.

"Somehow a British accent really fits you."

Doctor Strange raises an odd eyebrow.

"You casted sigils that made my voice sound like it had an English accent?"

Nodding, you chuckle once again.

"The most snobby British slave accent in all of existence."

Sorcerer Supreme of all two people shakes his dumb head once again.

"As I said, you need to learn to be responsible with magic."

You burst into another fit of laughter.

"You should have seen the look on your face!"

The magic man groans.

"Someone your age should be acting more mature. I suppose this is that permanent American adolescence that gets prattled on these days. Thought it was nonsense considering our hardworking culture in the mid 20th century, but I'm starting to see it with all the new technology and luxuries we have these days."

Rolling your eyes, you let out a scoff.

"I'm not sure how old you think I am, but I'm in my mid teens."

Strange blinks his dumb gray eyes.

"Really? You look like you're in your late teens, early twenties."

A sigh escapes your lips.

That was flattering at first but now it's getting old and makes you feel a lot older than you actually are.

>[ ] "Mutant genetics. I look older than I am and will probably stay looking this handsome forever."
>[ ] "Come on, let's sit down with some... with some... with some tea!"
>[ ] "And now I feel like people aren't taking me seriously enough."
>[ ] "You need to learn how to take a joke."
>[ ] "Let's finish portals."
>[ ] Write In.

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

Any thoughts or questions, my dudes?

Are you starting to worry?

>>3504440
>>[X] "You need to learn how to take a joke."
> "I get that magic needs to be used responsibly most of the time, but taking something so seriously that you can't unclench enough to laugh at a funny ass joke is bad too. Besides, I told you that I'd get you with my sigils eventually, didn't I?"
Or something like that.

>>[X] "Let's finish portals."

>>3504552
I've got my concerns, yeah.

Voting closed; writing now

>[X] "You need to learn how to take a joke."
>[X] "I get that magic needs to be used responsibly most of the time, but taking something so seriously that you can't unclench enough to laugh at a funny ass joke is bad too. Besides, I told you that I'd get you with my sigils eventually, didn't I?"
>[X] "Let's finish portals."

He really needs to learn how to sit back and chill after getting his face blown the fuck up. The man is a wizard for fucks sake, he should be used to this kind of thing. If anything, he should she thank you for lighting up his boring ass days.

"You need to learn how to take a joke."

The Stranger furrows his brow.

"What?"

A hum of confirmation rumbles in your throat.

"I get that magic needs to be used responsibly most of the time, but taking something so seriously that you can't unclench enough to laugh at a funny ass joke is bad too. Besides, I told you that I'd get you with my sigils eventually, didn't I?"

Strange scoffs.

"That was to give me a headache whenever I thought of something stupid and you already did that."

You nod.

"I did it again just on a much larger scale."

Mr. Magic Man sighs.

"There's no arguing with you, is there? This is all just one big joke"

Chuckling, you nod your head once again.

"Now you're getting it."

Strange shakes his head.

"Are we going to go over what remains of teleportation or are you satisfied?"

You shake your head back.

"Let's finish portals."

The wizard weaves his hand through the air, conjuring a portal above you.

Raising your hand, you catch the magical tome as it falls and open it.

Three hours of portal application reading, hearing Strange lecture, and conjuring portals to places you've been before pass by.

You step out of your most recently conjured portal into the empty late night Francis Lewis Park. Taking a deep breathe of the fresh nightly air, you spin back around and walk through the portal back into Strange's.

Grand Supreme of all two sorcerers in New York slowly claps his hands in congratulations.

"You've mastered all the advanced magics with the exception of calling upon the gods, which can't really ever be mastered, well done."

A satisfied exhale wisps out of your lips.

It seems you've learned quite possibly all you can from Strange before he figures you out.

>[ ] "Come on, let's sit down with some... with some... with some tea!"
>[ ] "...Strange, I'm not going to be coming around anymore."
>[ ] "What are the super advanced magics?"
>[ ] Levitate your guitar case into your hand.
>[ ] Conjure a portal to Hunts Point, you're done here.
>[ ] Write In.

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

>>3505177
>[ ] "What are the super advanced magics?"
>[ ] Levitate your guitar case into your hand.
>[ ] "You know, I had a lot of fun. Did you?"
>[ ] "...I'll see you round, Strange."
>[ ] Conjure a portal to Hunts Point, you're done here.

>>3505188
That "I'll see you round" should be said in a decent unsuspicious way, but Strange won't see the wistful look on Kojo's face. Somewhere inside himself, Kojo values Strange greatly - not Dan or Abuelita or Marcus tier, no way, but slightly below the inner circle almost Silvermane-tier

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "What are the super advanced magics?"
>[X] Levitate your guitar case into your hand.
>[X] "You know, I had a lot of fun. Did you?"
>[X] "...I'll see you round, Strange."
>[X] Conjure a portal to Hunts Point, you're done here.

While you could stay and try to master one more magic, you're better off leaving before he inevitably hears the news. It was fun playing wizard apprentice while it lasted, but you have to move on. The two of you will likely meet again next time as enemies.

Like any and everyone else who opposes you, he will die.

"What are the super advanced magics?"

A smile makes its way on the sorcerer's face.

"Universal awareness, time manipulation, dimensional travel, plane shaping, and astral projection. As you can guess by name alone, they're on a completely different level than the beginner and advanced magics. They'll take entire days for you to learn, Kojo. When you're done, you might actually be worthy of being my successor."

You let out a small laugh.

Astral projection is literally one of the first mystical things you've learned how to do and your third eye is already some sort of universal awareness. It's funny how oblivious he is to your actual abilities.

The real joke is that you're never going to be his successor.

Holding out your hand, you channel multiversal energies around your guitar case and will it towards you, catching it by the handle.

"You know, I had a lot of fun. Did you?"

Strange stares at you in silence for a moment before nodding his head.

"...Yes, I have."

A hum rumbles in your throat.

"...I'll see you round, Strange."

Gesturing towards the floor, you will a tear in the fabric of space and time leading into your neighborhood underneath your feet.

You fall from the magic mansion's atrium into the night sky above your home borough and land on a nearby rooftop.

A sigh escapes your lips as you look up to the closing portal you conjured.

It's a lot colder out here.

>[ ] Sit down and play a real victory song, you've fucking earned it.
>[ ] Hop to the warehouse, it's just a few streets away.
>[ ] Dial in Cuda's number, he should be in control.
>[ ] Phone Itsuki, you miss his dull voice.
>[ ] Call Marcus, he is your boy.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3505753
>>[ ] Hop to the warehouse, it's just a few streets away.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Hop to the warehouse, it's just a few streets away.

All the boys are either relaxing after taking their cut of the local shops and getting set up or still in the process of doing all that. Ren and Alex are definitely done by now considering everyone in the borough already knows not to fuck with the crew. They probably don't know it's under Ren's control now, though. It's possible the girl made note to order her boys to say the protection racketees were paying up to the 893.

You turn to the direction of the warehouse and take off into the chilly night air.

It takes you about five leisure hopping seconds to land on the roof of the storage building.

Bending your knees, you flip over the side down in front of the sheet of galvanized steel.

A tuneful hum rumbles in your throat as you input the gate pass-code.

Metallic groans and creaks fill the air while the metal slab churns open.

You walk inside the warehouse to see an even bigger pile of money stacked on the round-table, far less foot-soldiers occupying the base, and Ren petting a catty Alex curled up in her lap.

Both girls perk up at the sight of you and immediately look at the guitar case in your hand.

Lifting up the case, you wave at them with it as you approach.

Alex meows while Ren continues to stare at the musical instrument protector.

You stop a yard away from the girls and cluck your tongue.

The small sound echoes from wall to wall of the relatively uninhabited building.

It's a goddamn haunted house in this place.

>[ ] "Care to start acting like your actual self, Alex?"
>[ ] "Where the fuck is everyone? Don't answer that."
>[ ] "Fucking hell, this place is empty."
>[ ] "Alex, get off your superior."
>[ ] "Ren, hand Alex over."
>[ ] "...What? What?"
>[ ] "I won."
>[ ] Play your true victory song, it'll make it feel less cold in here.
>[ ] Write In.

Getting late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) if I can before my morning classes.

Any thoughts or questions?

>>3506217
Good stuff as usual, shame that attendance isn't popping as usual

>>3506213
>[ ] "...What? What?"
>[ ] "Fucking hell, this place is empty."
>[ ] "Care to start acting like your actual self, Alex?"

>>3506213
>>[X] "Fucking hell, this place is empty."
>>[X] "...What? What?"

>>[X] Play your true victory song, it'll make it feel less cold in here.

>>3506426
>>[ ] "Care to start acting like your actual self, Alex?"
Not in front of Ren

>>3506689
Ok fine