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https://archived.moe/qst/thread/2424210/#2424210

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http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=A%20New%20Mutant%20Quest

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

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

>>3800064
>> >[ ] Teleport to Woo-Jin's place and start hopping, you've got a family reunion to endure


Family first.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Teleport to Woo-Jin's place and start hopping, you've got a family reunion to endure.

>(1/3)

It's been on hold for long enough and you can't keep avoiding it forever. You don't doubt you'll regret it when you're at their doorstep. Them seeing you in person claiming to be their long lost child's son will tear open the gash she left in their hearts. Maybe if you're lucky, they'll be spiteful and want nothing to do with you. A lot of people who were close to you would've been better off if you just never met.

You stand up from your chair and sigh as you weave a portal into being.

"I'll see you later, I need to go see the last living members of my family."

The wizard waves goodbye with a smile.

"Good luck and remember my words: you need to do this for yourself."

Nodding, you wave back before stepping through the rip in space-time on to the tile roof of a building adjacent to good ole' dead Woo-Jin's.

You take a deep breath of the fresh air and breathe out.

"...This is going to suck so fucking much."

A pivot puts you in the direction of Bellerose Manor.

What little memories Fisk, Alvarez, and Willis have of Bellerose is that it's a shithole but a relatively on the down-low shithole. Your grandparents are likely safe if they know enough not to stick their French and Ghanaian noses into shit they don't belong. If not and they've recently pissed somone off, you're probably going to be murdering someone in front of them for their own safety before murdering them, like you do everyone else who's been a parental figure in your life.

You bend your knees and hop off towards the ghetto Queens neighborhood.

It takes you about fifteen minutes of totally-not-stalling-for-time hopping to get to 249th street.

Landing on the rooftop of an apartment building, you scan the printed addresses until your eyes land on 11-82.

Pain wells up in your chest as your heartbeat quickens.

A small, hesitant hop takes you from the tile roof to the door of your grandparents' shoddy ass-looking apartment.

You reach your pointer finger out to the press the doorbell, pull back your hand, reach out again, and stop just an inch or two away from the button.

>(2/3)

This is a mistake. All you're going to do is hurt even more people you care about. Even though you've never met them, they're still of great value: they bore your mother unto this world.

Fully pulling back your hand, you sigh.

It's impossible for you to have a family. You were alone right from the beginning; Deirdre may have taken care of you but she lost you before you could even remember her. They'll die like everyone else. Killing, stealing, raping, extorting, and torturing is all you know how to do. Someone like you can't have something like that and shouldn't.

You've ruined everyone who's ever known you.

A choked growl rumbles in your throat as you turn your back on your grandparents' home.

The sound of a door creaking open freezes you before you can take a step forward or jump away.

You hear a middle-aged women's gasp emanate from behind you followed by the thud of a small object hitting the ground.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3zCg-RtmjGk

Eyes wide, you hesitantly turn your body back to look at the source of the noises.

A small, graying dark black woman stares back up at you with wide eyes of her own and a purse at her feet.

The two of you stare at one another in complete silence for a full minute until the woman embraces you with tears flowing down her cheeks like a river.

"My girl," she says in a foreign accent unlike any you've ever heard, "my little girl... You're my little girl's baby boy!"

Sharp, all-consuming pain fills your chest, shattering the feeling of your heart.

"...S-stay away." You easily break free of the old woman's grasp and take a wavering step back. "Stay away from me!"

You'll break if she touches you again; everything pathetic little thing you are will break into thousands of even tinier pieces.

The woman who is without a doubt your grandmother ignores your warning and wraps her warm arms around you again.

"Oh my boy, my sweet boy, it's okay! Everything is okay! You're here now; you're safe."

A sob escapes your lips while tears emerge from your eyes.

"...How can this be okay? How can anything be okay? I've never been okay once in my entire life. The things I've done... The people I've hurt... Everything I've had to go through... How can I be okay with any of this!"

>(3/3)

Akosua catches you as your legs give out from under you.

"It doesn't matter. None of it matters; you're here now, grandson. Everything is okay."

You close your eyes shut and weep into the old woman's shoulder.

This is too good: this is too much for something abominable like you.

An odd yet warm calmness fills you in your entirety as the ease of your grandmother's embrace sets your mind at ease.

You briefly open your eyes before closing them again as you fall into a black void.

Opening your eyes, you see a rocky white ceiling.

You blink and raise your upper body to find yourself in a crummy-looking apartment room.

A small hum rumbles in your throat.

For some reason, you don't feel as heavy as you did before, like something was taken off your shoulders.

Small, older voices chime softly through the walls.

You lay back down on the bed.

Both of your grandparents are in here somewhere and all three of you are probably going to share another emotional moment that absolutely wrecks your shit. Might be good to get out of here before that happens. You can probably collect a fallen hair or something from them, maybe skin flakes: they are getting old.

Of course, you could go through with having another mental breakdown but you're hesitant because you're afraid of intimacy with anyone who isn't Marcus, like a complete faggot.

>[ ] Go out and have a moment with both your grandparents, you're going to have to eventually and you just had one who the fuck knows how many minutes or hours ago.
>[ ] Close your physical eyes and look out through your third, no reason not to at this point.
>[ ] Take a sniff of the air, you're bound to find something.
>[ ] Port out, you don't need this right now.
>[ ] Hey, how are you feeling right now?
>[ ] The-One-Above-All, do you know it?
>[ ] Write In.

Late. I cried half-way through writing this, the song pick was hasty and done after the writing so it kind of fits but doens't, and I am fucking tired.

read and enjoy

Thoughts or questions for my question having friends?

are you crying?

>>3800575
>[ ] Go out and have a moment with both your grandparents, you're going to have to eventually and you just had one who the fuck knows how many minutes or hours ago.
>[ ] Close your physical eyes and look out through your third, no reason not to at this point.
>[ ] Take a sniff of the air, you're bound to find something.
Take in our surroundings before getting emotional again.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Take a sniff of the air, you're bound to find something.
>[X] Close your physical eyes and look out through your third, no reason not to at this point.
>[X] Go out and have a moment with both your grandparents, you're going to have to eventually and you just had one who the fuck knows how many minutes or hours ago.

>(1/2)

Never hurts to make sure without a shadow of a doubt you're safe. It's how you've stayed alive this long and will continue doing so until you get bored of living. They may be your grandparents but SHIELD could have gotten to them after your mother disappeared or your revealed yourself unto the world.

Closing all three of your eyes, you take in the surrounding air through your nose.

There's nothing out of the ordinary except for the scented candles that keep this place from smellin completely like a shithole.

You open your third eye, letting your essence pour out into the world.

All which is you encompasses your vessel, your surviving kin's home, and the surrounding block.

Opening your eyes, you hum again.

Everything is relatively fine except for that drug lab a few apartments down the road. Looks small time enough to ignore for now, though. Would be wise to tell Itsuki when you inevitably command him to have your parents protected at all times. Even if it's suspicious, you can probably make it seem like a kidnapping or something.

Speaking of your grandparents.

You pull the warm blanket off of you and slide off the bed on to your feet.

"This is gonna... go whatever way it freaking goes."

Breathing in deeply, you walk to the room door and open it to a dirty white hall. A shake of your head clears it of whatever remaining doubtful thoughts you have before you step out.

>(2/2)

You walk past the hall, through a filthy carpeted living room, and into the kitchen where your grandmother and a graying middle-aged white man are sitting at a table over tea.

The aging pale gentleman looks up from Akosua to widen his eyes at you.

"...Mon petit fils." He rises trembling from his chair, walks over to you, kisses each of your cheeks, and embraces you in a hug that would very much feel like a vice-grip if you weren't a mutant. "Your horns are different but I'd know my sweet little girl's looks anywhere. Welcome home, grandson." Salomon Moon sobs. "Welcome home."

Tears spring from your eyes.

"I've never had a home."

Your grandmother rises from her chair with teary eyes to join in your embraze.

"Now you do, mon petit fils."

The three of you hold each other in a tearful squeeze for a few minutes before breaking apart.

Salomon wipes away his tears on the sleeve of his coat.

"Take a seat; I'll make you some tea."

Nodding, you sit down in one of the two spare seats as your grandmother takes her previously occupied one.

You have a lot to talk about with them.

>[ ] "...For some reason, I felt like this would've been so much better if the two of you just turned me away at your doorstep. Now, I have no idea what I was thinking."
>[ ] "Do I really look like my mother? Everyone I've met says I'm the spitting image of my father."
>[ ] "...I'm sorry for not finding you sooner. I thought you were both dead, honestly."
>[ ] "Did you see me in the news yet or is this the first time you've seen me?"
>[ ] "...There's something you both need to know: my mother's dead."
>[ ] "How have you been all these years?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3802271
>[ ] "...For some reason, I felt like this would've been so much better if the two of you just turned me away at your doorstep. Now, I have no idea what I was thinking."
>[ ] "Do I really look like my mother? Everyone I've met says I'm the spitting image of my father."

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...For some reason, I felt like this would've been so much better if the two of you just turned me away at your doorstep. Now, I have no idea what I was thinking."
>[X] "Do I really look like my mother? Everyone I've met says I'm the spitting image of my father."

It really was stupid and irrational for you to make assumptions like that. This was exactly what you needed, and the best thing that could've happened to you. Maybe it'd do you some good to think more positively: more glass half full, less glass half empty so long as the glass doesn't overflow and break or some rosy shit like that.

You raise a hand to rub the back of your head underneath your horns.

"...For some reason, I felt like this would've been so much better if the two of you just turned me away at your doorstep. Now, I have no idea what I was thinking."

The aging woman pats a hand on the uncovered top of your head.

"It's okay, nana, you were afraid. That's only natural: you've never met us before today."

Blinking, you feel your blood rush to your cheeks.

"Yeah, but... I've never really been scared of anything."

Akosua ruffles the top part of your scalp.

"Just like our little truie, you inherited more than just her beauty." (Translation: "pig[female].")

You blink and raise an eyebrow.

"Do I really look like my mother? Everyone I've met says I'm the spitting image of my father."

Grandma Moon nods.

"Her rich dark golden brown skin is yours, her thin eyebrows, her medium forehead, her lips, and the angle of her nose. Your eyes are pushed back and round, not to mention kind of scary." She lowers her hand from your head down to your cheek, holding her thumb against the line of your jaw. "The bones in your cheeks are stern, unlike hers. That must be what you got from your father, whoever he is." A hum vibrates softly in her throat. "...It's roguish, like a Mexican or a Cuban."

A chuckle escapes your lips at the casual racism.

"He was a Mexican, but an old Cuban lady took care of me for a while."

The graying woman furrows her brow.

"Where was he?" She blinks. "Where was Thema?"

You frown as a tea cup is set in front of you.

Now you remember why you were dreading meeting these two for the first time.

>[ ] "...I'm sorry for not finding you sooner. I thought you were both dead, honestly."
>[ ] "Did you see me in the news yet or is this the first time you've seen me?"
>[ ] "...Augusto didn't know and my mother died giving birth to me."
>[ ] "...Wait a second, do either of you know my name or?"
>[ ] "How have you two been all these years?"
>[ ] Write In.

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

Thoughts or questions?

>>3802737
>[ ] "...Augusto didn't know and my mother died giving birth to me."
>[ ] "...Wait a second, do either of you know my name or?"

>>3802737
>>[ ] "...Augusto didn't know and my mother died giving birth to me."
>>[ ] "...Wait a second, do either of you know my name or?"

>>3802737
>[ ] "...Augusto didn't know and my mother died giving birth to me."
>[ ] "...Wait a second, do either of you know my name or?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...Augusto didn't know and my mother died giving birth to me."
>[X] "...Wait a second, do either of you know my name or?"

Telling a toned down story of the truth is your best move for now. None of them needs to know what exactly happened to your father yet. Maybe they'll figure it out on their own later. Better they don't hear it from you to prevent them from hearing the truth of what happened. You're not ready to tell them you're a filthy parracidist yet.

A sigh escapes your lips.

"...Augusto didn't know and my mother died giving birth to me."

Both your grandparents share a look before looking down at the kitchen table.

Of course they know she was dead or at least were prepared to hear it: it's been too long, and she would've came with you here if she was alive. Both of them likely accepted it a long time ago. Hearing you say it was just the long awaited confirmation they needed.

Your grandmother hums a small hum.

"...How did it happen? You heal like her, don't you?"

Nodding, you lean back in your chair.

"I was stuck in her because of her internal bone carapace or I wasn't breathing or something among those lines. She tore herself open and through it to get me out of her. Either she lost too much blood to heal herself, the tear she made was too wide, or the sheet of bone was blocking her gaping wound from closing."

Salomon buries his face in his hand.

"That's horrible, mon petit fils."

You lift up your cup of tea and take a gulp before setting it down, blinking your demonic kitty eyes.

"...Wait a second, do either of you know my name or?"

The two of them raise their heads and shake them.

Glancing back at the living room, you see a distinct lack of a television setup anywhere.

"My name is Kojo Reyes."

A small laugh escapes your grandmother's lips.

"Strange how an Akan name goes well with a Spanish last name. Was Kwadwo too foreign for Thema's taste or did she pick Kojo without knowing it meant you were born on a Monday?"

You chuckle back and shrug.

"It was her first pick but the woman who was with her... when she died told me she said Kojo wouldn't get me bullied by other kids."

The table falls silent once again.

Little you can do to make small talk when you're jusr reminding them your mother, their child, is dead.

>[ ] "I hope not to bother you, but I came here to find you two and prove I really am your grandchild to get a U.S passport. There's a lab we can test our DNA at."
>[ ] "...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."
>[ ] "Any rumors going on in the neighborhood?"
>[ ] "How have you two been all these years?"
>[ ] "...Do you get newspapers here or?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3804227
>[ ] "I hope not to bother you, but I came here to find you two and prove I really am your grandchild to get a U.S passport. There's a lab we can test our DNA at."
>[ ] "Any rumors going on in the neighborhood?"
Ask about the rumors to lighten the mood a bit and get Intel then segue into the DNA talk.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Any rumors going on in the neighborhood?"
>[X] "I hope not to bother you, but I came here to find you two and prove I really am your grandchild to get a U.S passport. There's a lab we can test our DNA at."

>(1/2)

Best to ease into the identity and genetic talk through some good ole' fashioned gossip. Everyone gossips like a little school girl bitch every once in a while. Surprising enough, most of the audio Fisk recorded of his employees through wiretaps he frequently used to thwart government agencies and agents of corporate espionage were about frivolous hearsay. Just goes to show most people don't ever really grow up.

You take a deep breath.

"Any rumors going on in the neighborhood?"

Grandma Akosua raises a hand to her chin.

"I've heard the Davis' have started cooking meth after their boy got arrested. Soon, we'll start getting homeless wandering the streets."

Salomon scoffs.

"Everyone knows the homeless are addicts to PCP, my love. Meth is too expensive of a drug for them to buy."

Chuckling, you shake your head.

"PCP is more likely in white trash neighborhoods. Meth, crack, and heroin are the staple drugs in a bum's diet. Keeps them happier and more jittery at the cost of a lesser life span."

The two older fellows both stop to stare in your direction.

You blink and take another gulp of your tea.

"...I've seen a lot of drug deals go down in Hunts Point and had to take down crazy drugged up bums who thought I was a weathered duffel bag of coke once in a while. Other times, they thought I was a baby dragon."

Black Abuelita covers her mouth and laughs into her hand.

"That is so horrible!"

>(2/2)

Looking down at your teacup, you gaze at your reflection in the bright brown tea.

"...Yeah, it kind of was."

The table falls silent once again.

A sigh escapes your lips as you lift your head back up.

"I hope not to bother you, but I came here to find you two and prove I really am your grandchild to get a U.S passport. There's a lab we can test our DNA at."

The two old people's eyes widen.

Grandpa Moon takes a sip of his tea.

"You weren't born in a hospital?"

Nodding, you lean back in your chair.

"My mother wouldn't have died if I was. Also, I would've been put in an orphanage and/or whored out to pedophiles."

Akosua grimaces.

"You're here now, you're safe."

A hum of understanding rumbles in your throat.

"I know, I know."

For quite possibly the first time in your entire life, you do feel safe from everything. Even if they can't protect you, this place already feels like a sanctuary because of them. You don't need to completely hide yourself here, and there's no need for you to deceive anyone or watch your words so you don't offend anyone subservient to you. There's no real issue they're dealing with that you have to sort out or personality problem weighing them down from reaching their true potential. If anything, these people are here to help you reach yours and solve your problems for once. It's as if you've gotten two more Marcuses in your life.

>[ ] "I don't suppose either of you would mind an incredibly long ride to Brooklyn when all this is over, would you?"
>[ ] "I heard that you two had... difficulties providing a home environment, but you don't seem like it at all."
>[ ] "Are either of you weak of heart? I'm about to show you a way of traveling that is downright... magical."
>[ ] "...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."
>[ ] "How have you two been all these years?"
>[ ] "...Do you get newspapers here or?"
>[ ] Write In.

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

>>3805011
>[ ] "I heard that you two had... difficulties providing a home environment, but you don't seem like it at all."

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "I heard that you two had... difficulties providing a home environment, but you don't seem like it at all."

Your mother could've lied about how your grandparents were really like to avoid ever having to actually discuss them. It could be she was just bored of staying inside and doing nothing all day. Banging runaways and keeping a harem of them all to oneself sounds far more appealing. Then again, she might have been telling the truth at the time: relationships fluctuate frequently and it seemed like they were in a really good place before they moved across the ocean to lose everything in New York.

"I heard that you two had... difficulties providing a home environment, but you don't seem like it at all."

The aging couple looks back down at the table again.

Grandma Moon sighs.

"We were going through a rough patch in life after we lost our money keeping up a bakery we owned."

Salomon shares a look with his wife.

"Neither of us knew what to do, who to blame, or how to go forth when we moved to Hunts Point."

The aging woman nods.

"And in the end, we blamed each other and languished for a few years until our baby girl disappeared."

Mr. Moon takes another gulp of his tea.

"We looked and asked around but we never heard anything beyond rumors or a few sightings."

Akosua whimpers.

"It hurt to leave behind our little truie, many years had passed since we last saw her and the streets grew even more dangerous with every passing day." Tears stream down her cheeks again. "We couldn't wait forever but we ended up leaving you behind in her stead."

Frowning, you take a gulp of your own out of your teacup.

"There's nothing you could've done; it's okay."

Nothing anyone could've done would've saved you from that place. A lot of the time, that's just how things are. Circumstances beyond your or anyone else's control combined together to fuck you over before you were even born. Not even magic can overturn something like that, the closest thing to fate.

>[ ] "I don't suppose either of you would mind an incredibly long ride to Brooklyn when all this is over, would you?"
>[ ] "Are either of you weak of heart? I'm about to show you a way of traveling that is downright... magical."
>[ ] "...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."
>[ ] "How have you two been all these years?"
>[ ] "...Do you get newspapers here or?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3806415
>[ ] "How have you two been all these years?"
>[ ] "...Did you two check out the news lately?"
Gauge their situation, what they know. It would also help ease them into things.

>>3806415
I'll back >>3806705

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "How have you two been all these years?"
>[X] "...Did you two check out the news lately?"

Easing in to the heavy shit with small talk is always the best social move with old people. Fisk did the same with his crazy ass momma before she died of old age. Poor girl lost it after the fat boy caved his dad's head in. Kinda reminds you of what happened with Dan and Abuelita, only less tragic and filled with less fat. You'd be capable of empathizing if he was still alive and had not literally flipped his Georgian table at you.

You take a deep breath.

"How have you two been all these years?"

Both grandparents tilt their head from side to side before evening back out.

Grandma Moon drinks out of her teacup.

"Life has had its ups and downs, like it always does."

Salomon nods and sighs.

"We lost our proud Thema Léone."

Your black grandmother puts a hand over your grandfather's pale wrinkled hand.

"And fell in love again looking for her." She puts her other hand over yours. "Before finally meeting you, her final gift to the world."

The resident Frenchman puts his free hand on your other one, eyes watering.

"Her greatest gift to us."

You look away from the teary-eyed couple as your blood rushes to your cheeks.

"I'm not worth that much, and I'm nonrefundable unfortunately."

Both your grandparents laugh at your horrible joke.

Akosua raises her hand from yours and pats you on your shoulder.

"You need more self-esteem, Kwadwo"

Mr. French Biblical Man sets his hand on your other shoulder, all fatherly warm-happy-like.

"Kojo, you're worth far more than what you think you are."

A hum rumbles in your throat.

They're not wrong about that, just not in the way they think.

"...Did you two check out the news lately?"

Both shake their heads.

Abuelita Akosua sighs.

"It's been so long since we could afford cable and I work with Mexicans or Dominicans so all I hear is rough, bastardized French. I'd buy magazines but those are just horrible. Always with the celebrities and the prostitutes and, how you say, the city bicycle whores."

Salomon Moon clucks his tongue.

"Not much too hear when you work in a run-down bakery instead of running it."

A smile makes its way on to your face.

Somehow, you are both glad and disappointed to hear that.

>[ ] "I don't suppose either of you would mind an incredibly long ride to Brooklyn when all this is over, would you?"
>[ ] "Are either of you weak of heart? I'm about to show you a way of traveling that is downright... magical."
>[ ] "...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."
>[ ] "You don't even get newspapers?"
>[ ] Write In.

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

Thoughts or questions?

Are the grandparents fun to read?

>>3807127
>that spoiler
Yes. Kojo totally needs to introduce Marcus to them and actually have a GOOD TIME good time with them. He won't abandon his ideals and desires to take the world and the sky and all that, but there's no way he can't do that while helping those he likes, right?

>>3806945
>Not a fan of newspapers either?
>[ ] "I don't suppose either of you would mind an incredibly long ride to Brooklyn when all this is over, would you?"
I want to trust them but that seems like something they would definitely get. It's a bit odd that they thought of magazines of all things before newspapers.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Not a fan of newspapers either?"
>[X] "I don't suppose either of you would mind an incredibly long ride to Brooklyn when all this is over, would you?"

It's both a relief and somewhat concerning your grandparents have little to no connection to the happenings of the outside world at large. People should know what's going on or what the publishing companies want them to know is going on. Soon, everyone's going to know what you want them to know in certain things. Too much of that kind of manipulation would be incredibly suspicious however.

"Not a fan of newspapers either?"

Akosua cringes.

"The last time we had a paper boy bicycle down the street, one of our neighbors shot him dead when he tried pulling out a newspaper from his sack."

Grandpa Moon nods.

"Poor boy bled out in seconds and left a horrible stain on the road for a few months."

Abuelita Moon gasps.

"Salomon!"

Your mother's old man blinks.

"What? He did: it was horrid."

The old woman gently slaps the man's arm.

"Have some respect for the dead, may they rest in peace."

Covering your mouth, you muffle a laugh.

Even their misunderstandings are something warm and pleasant.

"I don't suppose either of you would mind an incredibly long ride to Brooklyn when all this is over, would you?"

The two grandparents shoot you a confused look.

A sigh escapes your lips.

"Gene lab is there."

Both elderly folks 'ah' in realization before nodding.

Your grandfather raises a hand to his chin.

"That will probably have to wait until tomorrow, though. It's late."

Blinking, the lack of sunlight energy being absorbed by your third-eye and experienced comes back to mind.

It's about eight in the afternoon outside: way too late to be driving all the way to Brooklyn. You could do it tomorrow in the afternoon or right during the morning. So long as you get it done, it's fine. Hell, you're fine just having your grandparents now.

>[ ] "Are either of you weak of heart? I'm about to show you a way of traveling that is downright... magical."
>[ ] "...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."
>[ ] "...Do you want to live somewhere else? Somewhere away from all this shit?"
>[ ] "I just knocked out, didn't I?"
>[ ] "Tomorrow sounds optimal."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3807705
>[ ] "...Do you want to live somewhere else? Somewhere away from all this shit?"
>[ ] "Tomorrow sounds optimal. Is it ok for me to crash here tonight?"
Keep an eye on them with our senses when they think we're sleeping.

>[ ] "I just knocked out, didn't I?"
What's this supposed to mean?

>>3807824
went to sleep, like a crybaby bitch

>>3807825
Oh right. We knocked out just after meeting them. Completely forgot about that.

Going to go to my Afternoon class soon. Will close voting and update if I have time before my Night class.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...Do you want to live somewhere else? Somewhere away from all this shit?"
>[X] "Tomorrow sounds optimal to get tested at the gene lab. Is it okay for me to crash here tonight?"

While it's not quite time to drop the fortune bomb on them yet, you can still kind of hint you can take them away from this fucking place. Too many health hazards exist in this ghetto for them to live in it. Maybe you could get them to move more to Queen's center for Itsuki to keep an eye on them for you. Manhattan is probably the safest place for them to live but they'll be more involved in your business.

"...Do you want to live somewhere else? Somewhere away from all this shit?"

Immediately, both your grandparents nod.

Akosua downs the rest of her tea.

"We've been saving up to move for quite sometime. Our cars are paid off, even though they're damaged, and our credit cards are almost fully free of debt. Just a few more months, maybe even a year, and we'll be out of this place." She sighs. "I suppose I'll miss it in a way, like I do Hunts Point."

Salomon groans.

"You're too sentimental, my love. What could you possibly miss about Hunts Point, the prostitutes?"

The aging black woman laughs.

"I saw plenty of those back in Paris, and you still can't stop talking about it!"

Grandpa Biblical Figure chuckles back at your grandmother.

"And you miss Paris too!"

She nods her head rapidly.

"I do!" She takes a deep breath and exhales. "...I do."

You hum.

"Tomorrow sounds optimal to get tested at the gene lab. Is it okay for me to crash here tonight?"

Both grandparents nod again with smiles on their faces.

"We'll always have a room for you here." The grandma and grandpa say at almost exactly the same time.

A warm smile makes its way on to your own face.

You didn't even need to ask. Really, you should've expected that but you're still not used to this whole unconditional hospitality thing. Silvio's was nice but the guards made you feel a little unwelcome. Of course, being around Sophia gave you a feeling that was kind of like the one you have just being here with your surviving kin, much like hanging out with Marcus feels.

>[ ] "Are either of you weak of heart? I'm about to show you a way of traveling that is downright... magical."
>[ ] "...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."
>[ ] "...Do you have any bread we can eat together, as a family?"
>[ ] "Let me serve us some more tea, we've got time before bed."
>[ ] "How would you guys feel about living in Manhattan?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3808734
>[ ] "Let me serve us some more tea, we've got time before bed."
Wrap up and call it a night. Listen in on them when they think we're sleeping

>>3808734
this >>3808757

Night class is about to start. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) if I have time before my morning class.

Thoughts or questions?

>>3808854
We gotta get Marcus here when possible.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Let me serve us some more tea, we've got time before bed."

You already got some sleep in so you don't need to go to bed again. What you need is to look after your old folks while they're asleep: they're too old to defend themselves. Until they get a decent guard of sorts, you're not leaving them alone. You didn't go through all of this just to lose them after you finally found them. They're not going to die this time, not again.

Standing up from your chair, you clap your hands together.

"Let me serve us some more tea, we've got time before bed."

And so, one by one, you pick up the teacups and fix the table some tea.

The three of you spend the next hour or so conversing about your pasts. You share what little you can without telling them exactly what you were and what you did. Both of them, on the other hand, share with you their early lives and past struggles. Of course, all three of you drank your tea to the last drop like good caffeine drinkers do.

Salomon met Akosua in Ghana when both were young in their late teens and had some degree of wealth. The Frenchman, being a natural romantic idiot, asked Akosua to marry him and come with him back to Paris the week before he planned to leave. Akosua, wanting to see the world and appreciative of the foreigner's doting attitude towards her, accepted the proposal and became a French citizen after four years, in which she had your mother. Life was pretty sweet until the mutation and move to the States. From then on, it got pretty bleak until it reached this point.

Words spent, old bodies zapped of energy, and peaceful boredom set in, the three of you go to your respective rooms.

You spend the entire night awake, listening to whatever may be happening outside and checking with your third eye to be sure.

As the sun begins to shine in, you hear the old folks rising.

The three of you join up in the kitchen again for a good morning coffee.

You take a gulp of the fresh dark brew and hum.

Now would be the perfect time to tell them about your magic to minimize the amount of time you'll waste by traveling but that could kill them.

>[ ] "Are either of you weak of heart? I'm about to show you a way of traveling that is downright... magical."
>[ ] "...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."
>[ ] "...Do you have any bread we can eat together for breakfast, as a family?"
>[ ] "Alright, let's go while traffic isn't going to be fucking hell."
>[ ] "How would you guys feel about living in Manhattan?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3810174
>[ ] "Alright, let's go while traffic isn't going to be fucking hell."
They don't need to know about the magic and I'd like to save the fortune thing as a surprise once we actually have it.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Alright, let's go while traffic isn't going to be fucking hell."

Showing magic will most likely kill at least one of them and brand you a parracidist once again. It's better for you to have some patience, which you've had a lot of lately. May be trying at times, but you've gotten this far, and you're not always going to get the things you want immediately in life. Of course, you've known that for a long time already; some things just need to be repeated.

"Alright, let's go while traffic isn't going to be fucking hell."

The two elders raise eyebrows.

"Don't you want to have breakfast first?" Akosua asks.

Shaking your head, you take a sip from your coffee mug.

"I don't need to eat much, remember? But it's fine if you want to stop and eat breakfast before a long ride."

Grandpa and Grandma Moon shake their heads in turn.

"We're fine." Your old man says. "We don't really eat breakfast until lunch."

You tilt your head to the side.

"Brunch?"

The old couple blinks, shares a look, and laughs.

"Why didn't we think of that?" Both say at the same time.

A warm smile makes its way on your face as you slowly shake your head.

It takes about four or so minutes for you three to exit the apartment, lock the door, open the garage, enter an old-looking family car, close the garage, and drive off into the streets of Queens.

About an hour of driving through sparsely populated streets go by until you reach the gene lab's address.

You gently open the door of the old car and step out to take in the fresh air of the parking garage.

That was a surprisingly short drive, but it's much like you to underestimate the power of New York's toll roads: a dignified and powerful being such as yourself takes to the sky.

Grandma and grandpa slowly the exit the car before joining you in taking in some fresh air.

You don't know whether or not Advanced Genetics is open around 7:30AM. Would be good to have breakfast to pass the time and getting to know your grandparents better. Hell, you could probably call up Marcus and have him join you three for it. It would be super fucking weird, but you'd be like a real family.

>[ ] "Are you two fine walking to a nearby coffee shop or diner? I don't think the lab's open."
>[ ] "...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."
>[ ] "Fine morning for a walk, huh? Let's go on one and talk before going to the lab."
>[ ] "Is there anywhere you two want to see? I think it's too early."
>[ ] Walk to the lab, too late to stop now unless it's closed.
>[ ] Call Marcus, fuck waiting to get rich.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3810548
>[ ] Walk to the lab, too late to stop now unless it's closed.
We can catch up on more later or if the lab is closed.

>>3810548
>[ ] Walk to the lab, too late to stop now unless it's closed.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Walk to the lab, too late to stop now unless it's closed.

Important things should be handled first as they always should. Having a family breakfast meal with your grandparents and surrogate maybe-not-a-brother is totally high up on the totem pole, but this is higher on account of being the key to a multi-billion dollar fortune you spent over a month trying to get. Maybe if only a few days or a week had gone by since then, you'd put it higher up there.

You stretch yourself out as you motion for your old folks to follow you.

The three of you walk together in tandem out of the parking garage and into the streets of Brooklyn at an elder's pace.

Old people, especially those who don't do physical intensive labor or work out, have pretty poor physiques. Your grandparents aren't quite at that level yet, but they're getting there. Neither is an old soldier man like Dan was, which there is no shame in. Still, you'd like them to stay with you for as long as they can.

It takes six or so minutes of senior strolling to reach the doors of the lab finally.

You cluck your tongue at the lack of activity inside and a little closed sign at the corner of a window by the door.

"Oh come on, do scientists really have anything else going on in their lives to do anything other than sit in their lab all day?"

Salomon pats you on the shoulder.

"Everyone has their own life to live, my boy. It's okay that they're not open now: we'll just come back later."

Akosua nods as she folds her firm hand over yours.

"We can have breakfast before coming back, go for a walk, visit a few landmarks, or maybe even see a movie if there are theaters playing this early." She giggles. "It's been so long since I've been in Brooklyn."

Turning your head away, blood rushes to your face.

It's impossible for you to be mad with them around.

>[ ] "...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."
>[ ] "Are you two fine walking to a nearby coffee shop or diner?"
>[ ] "Let's go on a walk and talk before going to the lab then."
>[ ] "...You wouldn't mind if I brought a friend, would you?"
>[ ] "Is there anywhere you two want to see?"
>[ ] Call Marcus, fuck waiting to get rich.
>[ ] Write In.

Forgive the wait. Forgotten college assignments are a bitch. Also, it's late. I'll close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) before my afternoon class.

Thoughts or questions?

>>3811011
>[ ] "Let's go on a walk and talk before going to the lab then."

>>3811015
It feel like we're just spinning our wheels a bit here.

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3811511
My apologies, I haven't been keeping a clear line of thought as of late.

>[X] "Let's go on a walk and talk before going to the lab then."

>(1/2)

A little walk and talk has never hurt anyone in their lives, unlike sitting and talking. So much time wasted on your ass when it's healthier to be on your feet. It'd be good for your old folks too: they need all the exercise they can get at their age. You, on the other hand, were born perfect in body but feeble in mind. Every exercise you do is to repair what was never quite whole in the first place.

You hum.

"Let's go on a walk and talk before going to the lab then."

Grandma Moon turns to look across the road at Columbus Park.

"Why don't we start with there and take a look at all the other parks before going in?"

Salomon puts his hands on the woman's shoulders.

"That sounds fantastic, my love." He turns back to you. "What do you think, my boy?"

Chuckling, you nod in agreement.

It's like you're out with two children instead of two adults in a place they haven't been before. Kind of a welcome change of pace, really. Everyone, with the exception of Princess Alexis and Princess Sophia, is always so goddamn serious all of the time; makes it hard to unwind. You can actually feel completely at peace around them, kind of like what you felt at the park when you played for those actual kids.

The three of your cross the road into the patch of green secluded by the cement city.

A breath of amazement escapes your grandmother's lips as you walk along the pathways of the park.

"It's been so long since I've been to one of these places! The grass and trees are always so beautiful."

>(2/2)

Your old man laughs, patting you on the shoulder

"When we first went to a park, she couldn't shut up about nothing in France comparing to the beauty of her country's reserves, but look at her now."

Akosua gently slaps the man's arm.

"It's been years, let me have this."

Keeping to your elderly pace, you laugh along with your grandparents.

An hour of walking through the nearby parks goes by until you reach the nearest landmark, the Brooklyn War Memorial.

Your eyes scan the large white plaque before a frown makes its way on your face.

Dan's name should have been engraved on something like this. It's what he wanted, but he lived through the Vietnam war. World War 2 would've been more his style: clear-cut, no bullshit, and a clear enemy. Unfortunately, he lived to see boys conscripted and slaughtered like any conscripted unprofessional army does.

"Kojo?" Your grandfather's voice calls out to you.

Gritting your teeth, you clench your fists.

You killed him; you killed him like you kill everyone else.

"Kojo," Akosua says, "what's wrong?"

They should be walking through here with their daughter, instead, they're walking through here with you.

>[ ] "I knew someone back in Hunts Point: he felt a lot like... I don't know, something important. He's dead now because of me."
>[ ] "It's nothing, I just... I just hate knowing people died for no real reason."
>[ ] "Can you two leave me alone for a second, I... I can't be here right now."
>[ ] "...Is there anywhere else you two want to see?"
>[ ] "...I hate myself."
>[ ] Write In.

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

>>3812026
>[ ] "I knew someone back in Hunts Point: he felt a lot like... I don't know, something important. He's dead now because of me."

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "I knew someone back in Hunts Point: he felt a lot like... I don't know, something important. He's dead now because of me."

Dan was someone incredibly important in your life: he taught you more skills that let you survive on the streets and ended up being the key to becoming the person you are now. Abuelita was important too, but you never realized either of those things until they faded from this world. Thema and Augusto would have also been two of the most important and dearest people to you if you hadn't killed both of them.

Relaxing, you let out a sigh.

"I knew someone back in Hunts Point: he felt a lot like... I don't know, something important. He's dead now because of me."

You feel old, strong yet weathered arms wrap around you from behind.

"It's not your fault, Kojo." The sweet foreign accent of your grandmother chimes in your ear.

The sight of the memorial plaque blurs.

"...You weren't there; you didn't see."

A firm hand plants itself on your shoulder.

"We didn't need to be to know it wasn't. Life in the Bronx, especially Hunts Point, is brutal and things you don't want to happen occur anyway. Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault. You need to forgive yourself."

Tears stream down your cheeks.

"...I can't. I can never do that." You grit your teeth. "I can't ever forgive myself for that."

Grandma Akosua holds you tighter.

"You have to, my sweet boy. If you don't, you'll only destroy yourself in the end."

Chuckling, you wipe your tears away.

"That is the second time I've had that said to me recently. I... I'm not sure I don't deserve to be destroyed."

Salomon pats your shoulder.

"Grandson, no one deserves that and least of all you, our little truie's porcelet. (Translation: "pig's[female] piglet.")

You raise your head and give your grandfather a half-serious side-eye.

"Did you just call me fat?" A scoff escapes your lips. "If I didn't need any to survive or slimy up my tendons and keep my liver healthy, I'd have none whatsoever in my body."

The old man laughs and slaps your shoulder.

"Now you sound like your mother!"

All three of you disconnect from each other and share a laugh.

If only your female boar of a mother were here to be furious with all of you. Then again if she were, you probably wouldn't be here with them right now. You probably wouldn't have ever met Dan and be keeping precisely what you did to him a secret from your grandparents. Oh well, you killed them both.

>[ ] "...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."
>[ ] "...Thank you both. I feel at peace with you two around, it's strange."
>[ ] "Are you two fine walking to a nearby coffee shop or diner?"
>[ ] "...You wouldn't mind if I called over a friend, would you?"
>[ ] "Is there anywhere else you two want to go?"
>[ ] Call Marcus, fuck waiting to get rich.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3812814
>[ ] "Is there anywhere else you two want to go?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Is there anywhere else you two want to go?"

You really don't want to be here any longer than you have to. Neither your or them are ready to well and truly discuss what the hell happened to your past grandparental figures. They'll definitely think you're a monster. Good will isn't that plentiful in this world. Love isn't real either, especially unconditional love.

Clearing your throat, you look past the foliage to the cement jungle of civilization.

"Is there anywhere else you two want to go?"

Both share a look and shake their heads.

A hum rumbles in grandma moon's throat.

"We still have time, yes?" She smiles. "Let's have breakfast! It will let us sit down, relax, and talk more." The old woman focuses on you. "There's a lot you haven't mentioned about what happened back in Hunts Point."

You resist the urge to frown.

Hiding the truth about your past is going to be hard if you keep yourself open to them or constantly lose yourself to your self-loathing fits. Cutting them off will hurt, but it'd do you all some good in the long run. You will have to tell them some day, though. However, that day is sure as hell not today. A shame considering talking about it felt like such a relief.

The three of you depart from the patch of mother Earth's bounty to its eternal concrete cancer.

Five minutes is all it take for you to find a diner and two minutes is all it takes to give the shocked woman behind the counter your order. The three of you sit down in your own private corner table of the diner. The few folks in the classy place stare but your own folks don't seem to even notice it.

Getting comfortable in your seat, your eyes drift from your grandparents to the few customers close enough to leer in shock and awe at you.

Either they're oblivious, do not give a fuck, or are used to this from their days back in France.

If you had to hazard a guess, it'd be that last one, but people like Jesús and Cuda, social retards and endearingly ignorant jackasses, exist in this world.

>[ ] "Please don't take it personally if I don't talk about my past in front of you two: it's just not pleasant for me."
>[ ] "Do you not notice the stares or? They don't bother me, but it's odd that it doesn't bother you."
>[ ] "...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."
>[ ] "...You two wouldn't mind if I called over a friend, would you?"
>[ ] Wait for the food, you can talk after and later when they've mostly forgotten about the whole Dan thing.
>[ ] Call Marcus, fuck waiting to get rich.
>[ ] Write In.

Sorry about the wait. My mom got surgery so she's on meds, needs supervision, and is just emotionally unstable thanks to all the drugs that got pumped into her. It's late so I'll close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) when I can.

Thoughts or questions?

Sorry if the pace is starting to meander. I get autistic about realism and throw in a bunch of weird shit like arriving early, real-world location references, and things that would make Kojo recall his deepest regrets. Not to mention, I've been getting side-tracked more. My tone is also kind of starting to read inconsistent to me but that might be all the multi-tasking frying my brain along with my mother's drug-induced moodswings.

>>3813406
>>[ ] "Please don't take it personally if I don't talk about my past in front of you two: it's just not pleasant for me."
>>[ ] "Do you not notice the stares or? They don't bother me, but it's odd that it doesn't bother you."
>[ ] "...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."
>[ ] "...You two wouldn't mind if I called over a friend, would you?"
lets do it all in any order
>>3813422
take care dude no need to stress over the story just be there for your mom so she does not do something a toddler would do

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Please don't take it personally if I don't talk about my past in front of you two: it's just not pleasant for me."
>[X] "Do you not notice the stares or? They don't bother me, but it's odd that it doesn't bother you."
>[X] "...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."
>[X] "...You two wouldn't mind if I called over a friend, would you?"

>(1/2)

Unlike the park, you're going to have to actually talk with your grandparents about shit here. You're going to tell half-truths obviously, but that still counts as talking. May as well pop the news now before you go along too: they're going to find out sooner or later even if someone doesn't approach to ask you if you're Fisk's inheritor. It'd be suspicious of you to leave it out until after you get the fortune.

You clear your throat.

"Please don't take it personally if I don't talk about my past in front of you two: it's just not pleasant for me."

Grandma Akosua hums as your grandfather nods.

"That's fine, but you're going to have to tell someone about it eventually."

A sigh escapes your lips before you nod.

You'll only destroy yourself in the end, like she and a certain flamboyant magical gay vampire-looking ass mind diddler have said. Making peace with your past is one thing, making peace with yourself is another thing entirely. Letting yourself feel grief was just the first step on a long forgotten road you've been traveling aside but never noticed.

Speaking of noticing, your eyes glance back at one of the staring onlookers.

"Do you not notice the stares or? They don't bother me, but it's odd that it doesn't bother you."

The old couple share a look and shrug.

Your grandfather laughs.

"I used to get stared at for being with your sweet grandmother all the time back in Paris. If anything, it's rather nostalgic. Getting stared at is really one of the positives of going out."

>(2/2)

Akosua clucks her tongue.

"My gods, it was so annoying back in Paris: femme noir cette, femme noir ce." The aging woman sighs. "Now, I miss it. Everyone thinks I'm black here too, but they don't know I'm really from Ghana and not someone who wishes they were born in Africa." She shakes her heads. "Poor fools have no idea how good they have it here and how foolish it is to think all African peoples get along." (Translation: "black woman this, black woman that.")

Chuckling, you nod at your grandmother's words.

The ignorance American blacks have of the birth continent they idealize is something to be witnessed. Even before you heard about the regular genocides happening over there, you knew it was bullshit. No such paradise exists for them, much less anyone. Poverty has the unfortunate tendency to breed hope from despair.

Mind thoughts of poverty remind you of something else important.

"...There's something you two need to know: I inherited a multi-billion dollar fortune."

Both grandparents stop and stare at you.

Staying still, you await several minutes for a response you doubt will ever come before sighing again.

"...You two wouldn't mind if I called over a friend, would you?"

The two of them stay silent again.

You take the silence as a yes and dig a hand into your pocket.

Marcus doesn't need to come, but he's the one you want most by your side right now. Someone else might do fine too, though. Who knows, maybe Itsuki or Cuda would make good friends with your grandparents. Silvio might do just fine as well.

>[ ] "You don't actually believe me, do you?"
>[ ] Dial up Marcus, he is practically the brother you never had or had any idea you ever did.
>[ ] Call Silvio, they're old and he's old beyond just handling your totally legal money.
>[ ] Bring on the Second Coming, Jesús is pretty much your younger self's twin.
>[ ] Cuda the 'Lootah' come on and shootah, you want them to worry about you.
>[ ] Alexis summonus, she's totally middle-aged grandparent material.
>[ ] Ren-Run come, you did go out on a date with her that one time.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3814978
>[ ] "You don't actually believe me, do you?"
Well I missed the last vote but DO NOT CALL ANY GANG MEMBERS. Most of our plan is not to be obviously associated with them. Being caught in a dinner with a gang leader right now is a super bad idea. Call Strange or someone else that's not currently a crime lord

>>3814978
this >>3815068
best bro's gonna have to wait for later, but Stranger Danger has its own issues, so uhhhhh
yeah call in Doc Nosferatu in on our grandparents

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "You don't actually believe me, do you?"

Their silence should have been your first clue. Shock is expressed with gay ass gasps, open mouths, and wide-eyes: this is disbelief. Only difference between theirs and other people you know's is that they're not being sarcastic assholes about it. Both of them don't seem like the type to be mocking or dismissive too.

Pulling your hand out of your pocket, you rest it on the table.

"You don't actually believe me, do you?"

Both your grandparents share a look and look back at you with wide-eyes.

"Wait, you weren't trying to tell a joke?" Akosua asks.

You nod.

"I was being one-hundred percent serious: I am actually the heir to a multi-billion dollar fortune."

Salomon's jaw drops.

"...Wh-who's? How? When?"

A grin spreads across your face as you relax in your seat.

"Wilson Fisk's, my father worked for him once upon a time, and a week or so ago."

The aging woman lets out a cry of disbelief.

"Fisk of Fisk Industries? Just what did your father do for that man?"

An image of Augusto caked in the blood and brains of Hydra and SHIELD agents flashes through your mind.

"I'm not sure; maybe company negotiation or something. Either way, they had a falling out and Fisk bequeathed his fortune unto me in the event of his death out of sympathy for what he once had with my father."

Your grandparents fall limp in their chairs.

Covering your mouth, you snicker into the palm of your hand.

One of the somewhat scared and starey waiters walks to your table, sets down your meals, and walks away without a word.

You're not even rich yet and you're enjoying being rich.

>[ ] "Excuse me for a second, I need to go fetch someone."
>[ ] Eat your food, something more of this world would do you some good more than Strange's weird two-headed bug-eyed fish tapeworm.
>[ ] Dial up Marcus, he is practically the brother you never had or had any idea you ever did.
>[ ] Call Silvio, they're old and he's old beyond just handling your totally legal money.
>[ ] Bring on the Second Coming, Jesús is pretty much your younger self's twin.
>[ ] Alexis summonus, she's totally middle-aged grandparent material.
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and try to write more consistently tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

Thoughts or questions?

my god, i can't believe i didn't describe the food kojo ordered or what he and his grandparents ordered. that is so unlike me

>>3815599
>[ ] Eat your food, something more of this world would do you some good more than Strange's weird two-headed bug-eyed fish tapeworm.

>>3815599
>>[ ] Eat your food, something more of this world would do you some good more than Strange's weird two-headed bug-eyed fish tapeworm.

>>3815607
dude i feel like you're gonna fucking crash and shit at this rate
you gotta stop running, hiatus, and pull your life together

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3816712
I'm fine, man. It's just my mom. She's way better now than she was the first day and yesterday. Woman can take care of herself now. All that's fucked in my life right now is my sleeping schedule.

>[X] Eat your food, something more of this world would do you some good more than Strange's weird two-headed bug-eyed fish tapeworm.

>(1/2)

While the magical extradimensional bug-eyed self-resurrecting eel thing actually tasted kind of nice, you're in the mood for something more conventional and less likely to reform fused to your intestines. It's been a while since you ate anyway. Going too long without food will eventually lead to your body cannibalizing itself, but you've never starved yourself long enough for that to happen. Then again, it could be you're capable of going so long without food because your body does actually eat at your super muscles and your super blood heals it all over again.

Your eyes drift over the plate of soft buttermilk pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausages.

A pleased hum rumbles in your throat as you close your eyes and take in the surrounding air through your nose.

The syrup lathered French toast your grandparents ordered meshes with Salomon's breakfast burrito and Akosua's bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich with toasted bread, giving the table a savory sweet fragrance.

Opening your eyes, you grab the set fork before you and lift the plate up with your free hand to your lips.

Both your grandparents stop in the middle of grabbing their cutlery to stare at you while you consume one-fourth of your breakfast in the span of two seconds.

Salomon lets out a small concerned cry.

"Eat slowly, you'll enjoy your food more."

You raise an eyebrow at the old man, piercing one out of the three sausages on your plate with your fork.

"I can enjoy my food and eat it fast."

Akosua shakes her head.

"Like our little truie, you'll eat all your food in seconds and be disappointed you didn't get to enjoy it."

>(2/2)

Biting half of the sausage off, you tilt your head and chuckle in the old woman's direction.

"Is that why you call her your little pig?"

The aging couple laugh in tandem.

You shake your head and chomp down the rest of the rich sausage.

In the following minute or two, you 'slowly' devour both your thick & tasty sausages and thin & crispy strips of bacon at the request of your nagging elders.

You're already digging into your pancakes by the time they're barely on their third or second bite from their respective main dishes.

They're not really that good, but you need something other than protein. If you were like your grandparents, you would've doused them with syrup, but you like the fragrance more than the actual taste of the stuff. Fact that there's enough high fructose corn syrup in that bottle of diabetes also doesn't help its case.

Shrugging, you continue eating and slicing apart the pan-shaped pieces of bread until nothing but crumbs remain.

Both your old folks are half-way done, which leaves room to talk. It's kind of impolite, but that's what families do or something like that. Not much you can say than try to dig more into their past and what they like. Come to think of it, your grandparents must have some kind of mutant ancestor or something for your mother to have been the way she was. Then again, the X-gene is reported to lay dormant in a surprising amount of the human population. Your mother and you could've just gotten lucky.

>[ ] "Either of you have a preference for where you want to live? I can easily provide for you."
>[ ] "How was Thema during the early days of her mutation?"
>[ ] "Are there any other mutants in your... our family?"
>[ ] "Did mother ever get her genes tested in France?"
>[ ] "French toast, really?"
>[ ] Sit and wait for them to be done, no need for small talk.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3817187
>[ ] "How was Thema during the early days of her mutation?"
>[ ] "Are there any other mutants in your... our family?"
>[ ] "Can you tell me about our other relatives, if we have any?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "How was Thema during the early days of her mutation?"
>[X] "Are there any other mutants in your... our family?"
>[X] "Can you tell me about our other relatives, if we have any?"

>(1/2)

Your mother's past is still somewhat of a mystery to you. Without her alive, you won't ever know her side of things unless you bring her back or speak to her soul or something. Strange might be able to help you with that, but it's up to you. Facing your grandparents is one thing while facing the mother you killed coming into this world is another.

Wiping your mouth free of bread flakes, a hum rumbles in your throat.

"How was Thema during the early days of her mutation?"

A groan croaks from your grandmother's throat as your grandfather rolls his eyes.

"She was a teenage girl going through puberty, super puberty."

You chuckle.

"Just what did she do?"

Akosua shakes her head.

"What didn't she do is the real question: she went on shopping sprees for new baggy clothes to cover her new muscly body, groped grown men, carved her name on le Notre-Dame, jumped to the very tip of la tour Eiffel, got caught sleeping with one of her girl friends, and even stole a collar from a sex toy shop for the girl to wear."

Covering your mouth, you snicker into your palm.

"Holy shit."

Salomon buries his head into his hand.

"My sweet and innocent daughter became a lustful wild boar of a woman."

The aging former mother and current grandmother sighs.

"I would've understood if she showed some restraint, but our little truie was in six different girls' skirts and was reported for groping over a dozen boys in at her school in a single day."

You chuckle as you slowly shake your head.

>(2/2)

Of course she would've moved on damn near everything human that does: it's what you did when you started giving into that urge in the back of your mind. You didn't grope much, though. Sex was all that interested you and you didn't care for testing the people you fucked. In the end, almost a third of your soldiers couldn't date anyone outside of them on account of you laying 'claim' to them all. Then the Bratva came and the rest was history. It's both a wonder, and a shame you didn't get a single child out of all the women you slept with.

Speaking of having offspring.

"Are there any other mutants in your... our family?"

Both your grandparents shake their heads.

You groan.

"Can you tell me about our other relatives, if we have any?"

Akosua smiles.

"I have two sisters and four brothers."

Blinking, you tilt your head.

"What are their names?"

The black woman folds her hands.

"Kwasi, my oldest and twin brother; Ekua, my oldest sister; Nsonowa, my youngest sister; Yaw, Kwaku, Kwame, and Kwabena is the youngest brother."

A hum rumbles in your throat as you turn to your grandfather.

Mr. Bible Man shakes his head.

"I'm an only child, my boy."

You thin your lips out between each other.

And here you were hoping for nine uncles. It's kind of obvious on account of the disposable income he aparentally came from but still. With any luck, your uncles and aunts from your mother's side are all still alive. You might even have great grandparents. on account of being a teenage mother and teenage father's child.

>[ ] "Either of you have a preference for where you want to live? I can easily provide for you."
>[ ] "If you're a twin, Akosua, aren't I more likely to have twin children?"
>[ ] "I forgot to say this earlier but French toast, really?"
>[ ] "Did mother ever get her genes tested in France?"
>[ ] Sit and wait for them to be done, no need for small talk.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3817997
>>[ ] "Either of you have a preference for where you want to live? I can easily provide for you."
Other than that, just let them lead the conversation, old folks have a way of saying what needs to be said

>>3817997
This >>3818026
When we bring Marcus in on all this, then things will become a bit better for Kojo. Oh yeah, we gotta check in on him and Alex sometime due to fucked magic side effects.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Either of you have a preference for where you want to live? I can easily provide for you."

It'd be rude of you not to offer even if they probably will be too prideful to accept at first. You're going to have Itsuki place some guards near them if they decline anyway. Not one drop of your blood is going to be spilled on the streets or left without care. Los Reyes and the Moons aren't going to suffer through what your parents did, not again or ever again.

"Either of you have a preference for where you want to live? I can easily provide for you."

Both of your grandparents share another look, turn back to you, and shake their heads.

Your grandmother sighs.

"We appreciate it but we can take care of ourselves. Like we said the other day, we're not that far away from having enough to move out of Bellerose on our own."

Salomon nods.

"This is something we need to do and can do, mon petit fils. The two of us know how to handle ourselves: we'll be safe."

Clucking your tongue, you relax in your chair.

"At least give me an idea just so I know where you two are going to move."

The aging man shrugs.

"More into in-land Queens. Anything that isn't a ghetto or Bellerose, really."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Anywhere is what that sounds like."

Grandma Akosua tilts her head from side to side.

"More or less; we'll tell you where we end up. Don't worry about it, Kojo."

Sighing, you shake your head.

"I'm going to worry about it either way. Why don't I just give you money to move out and you pay me back if you feel like you need to? Safety comes first over pride and independence."

Your grandparents shake their heads right back at you again.

A groan escapes your lips.

These stubborn old fools just won't give in. You can already see that they'll make any excuse to not take your money. In complete fairness, you wouldn't take the money either, but you're not in their position right now. Pressing more on it will just make them double down. The level of force you'd have to use to get them to comply is too much for your tastes.

>[ ] "If you're a twin, Akosua, aren't I more likely to have twin children?"
>[ ] "I forgot to say this earlier but French toast, really?"
>[ ] "Did mother ever get her genes tested in France?"
>[ ] Just sit down in silence, gene lab will be open in some time.
>[ ] Sit and wait for them to be done, no need to lead with the small talk.
>[ ] Write In.

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

Thoughts or questions?

>>3818484
>[ ] (chuckle) "I can see where where me and my mother got our stubbornness. I have a old truie and porc sitting right across from me."
That should be nice
>[ ] "What was France like compared to here?"
A standard question, why not?
>[ ] (to Bold Red) Once the world belongs to you and I for real, the protection of you and I will be all they need, right? Do you care about them as much as I do?
>[ ] Sit and wait for them to be done, no need to lead with the small talk.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "I can see where where me and my mother got our stubbornness. I have a old truie and porc sitting right across from me."
>[X] "What was France like compared to here?"
>[X] Once the world belongs to you and I for real, the protection of you and I will be all they need, right? Do you care about them as much as I do?
>[X] Sit and wait for them to be done, no need to lead with the small talk.

>(1/2)

For all their talk about your mother's boarishness, her parents can be stupid stubborn swine as well. You think they'd be more like the frogs they eat, but they take after pigs. It kind of says a lot that you take more after wolves with the pack leading, aggressiveness, increased strength, and lonesomeness when you're not being the alpha male. While you did sleep around a bit, you eventually got over it but ended up repressing it as a result.

A grin spreads across your lips as you chuckle.

"I can see where me and my mother got our stubbornness. I have an old truie and porc sitting right across from me."

Salomon lets out a shocked cry while your grandmother covers her mouth.

"How dare you!"

Cackling, you lean back in your chair and kick your feet up.

"You're the one who set this up, gramps."

Akosua buries her head in her hand.

"My gods, will we ever have a respectful child in our family?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"Hey, I offered to pay to get you out of the ghetto; don't you try and act like I don't have some respect."

The aging man shakes his head.

"Not enough to honor your elders."

Rolling your eyes, you set down your feet.

Leave it to the Europeans and Africans to be old fashioned. You'd think they would've gotten used to American fuck you culture by now. Just goes to show you can take the Frenchman and Ghanaian out of France and Ghana but you can't take their frog-eating and mudhole countries out of them.

Speaking of which.

"What was France like compared to here?"

Grannie Moon hums.

"Old, vibrant, respectful, and peaceful."

>(2/2)

The resident Frenchman sighs.

"We must go back one day and see our homelands again before we die. This country has grown on us, but our hearts long for home."

Your old woman nods in agreement.

"I want to see my brothers and sisters again. I hope my mother is still alive, but she's surely dead by now. There is much I need to apologize to her for."

Furrowing your brow, you look down at your eating table.

Once the world belongs to you and I for real, the protection of you and I will be all they need, right? Do you care about them as much as I do?

Until the day they pass from this world, they will know no suffering of the body. They are you and I's mortal kin: regardless of our care, they must be protected.

You relax your brow and shrug.

The other you is going to keep pretending he doesn't give a shit, like a bitch with a crush. You've fucked a few girls like that back in your babyfaced gangster days. Bitches just don't know how to say it or admit it until you're up in them.

A half an hour or so of talking about what France was like, how your grandmother's siblings vary from crazy to the most submissive housewife to ever exist, and what it was like for your grandfather growing up in a loving home with money pass by.

You're left feeling envious of both your grandparents by the time you leave the diner.

Everyone, despite having gone through their own shit, always seems to have had something you never did once before in your entire life. Ren had her sister and her parents, Marcus had his mother, Itsuki has his family blade, Alex had money and parents, and Jesús had parents too. Of course, they had their problems with their families, but they grew up with them. Someone was always there for them when you were alone before Marcus was too.

A groan escapes your lips.

You're not the type to compete in the victim Olympics, of which you are fucking not, but you can't help feeling like you had it worse off than most people.

Taking a deep breath, you shake your head free of those thoughts.

Both your grandparents are here now; that's all that matters.

>[ ] "...Is it wrong if I feel envious of you two? There is a lot I never had that you two and a lot of other people did."
>[ ] "If you're a twin, Akosua, aren't I more likely to have twin children?"
>[ ] "Let's go back to the gene lab and get this all sorted out."
>[ ] "Did mother ever get her genes tested in France?"
>[ ] "Is there anywhere you two want to see?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3820936
>[ ] "Let's go back to the gene lab and get this all sorted out."

>>3820936
this >>3821015
The food was good, the company was better, and now it's time to get to work.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Let's go back to the gene lab and get this all sorted out."

>(1/2)

No time for you to brood or feel bad about your past right now when you've got shit to do. The three of you have a long time to talk about the shit that happened in your life some other time. You need to secure your citizenship and gain your fortune free of whatever governmental excuse there may be to tkae it away. Vanessa Fisk will also have to be dealt with one way or another even if she isn't a threat at the moment: air must be cleared, intentions must be made known, and an agreement to leave each other alone should be met. A legal battle is not something you want right now or ever.

"Let's go back to the gene lab and get this all sorted out."

Your old folks nod before following you back to Advanced Genetics.

About ten or twelve minutes pass until you reach the large science building.

The door automatically opens for you to step into the white sanitized interior, and a woman immediately stops mid-greeting to stare in awe at your mutant visage.

Waving back, you saunter over to the greeter's desk with your grandparents close behind.

"Hello, miss. You probably already know my name, but just in case, I'm Kojo Reyes; I'm here today with my grandparents to confirm they are my grandparents." You raise an eyebrow. "Do you keep records of the results from people who ask you for this kind of thing? If so, I would very much like to keep my DNA structure to myself."

Ms. Greeter blinks.

"..I, uh. W-we... We don't keep records without permission."

You keep your eyebrow raised.

"Somehow I doubt that."

A firm hand grasps your shoulder.

"Kojo, stop intimidating the poor lady." Akosua's voice chimes in from below and behind you.

Rolling your eyes, you turn back to face your grandmother.

"My horns have been doing that since I walked in." You turn again back to the greeter. "Can you get someone or take us somewhere where we can begin the process of testing our DNA or not?"

The woman bobs her head and stumbles on her step out from behind the counter.

"R-Right this way!"

You three follow the woman from the entrance room, through two halls, and into a medical-looking room with some odd-looking electronic equipment.

A man in a doctor's labcoat turns around and gasps like a sissy fag at your glorious form, alarming his nearby female assistant.

"Y-You! Aren't you a mutant!?"

Nodding, you point behind you to your elder folks.

"The Kojo Reyes and these are my grandparents; I'd like to get our paternity tested and get the results back as soon as possible. If you keep my DNA results to yourself or sell them to any organization, I will sue your business into oblivion."

>(2/2)

A feminine tongue clucks behind you.

"Kojo!" Your grandmother scolds.

You sigh.

"Fine, I'll just sue him."

Akosua groans.

"That's...better?"

DNA Testerman raises his hands up.

"Okay, okay! We won't keep any records and we'll hand you all of our results." He turns to the woman. "Kim, get some cotton swabs."

The assistant nods her head and digs out the equipment as fast as she can from a nearby cupboard before setting three in the man's gloved hand.

Mr. Doctor grabs one of the swabs.

"Please open your mouth, Mr. Reyes."

You comply with the procedure and watch the man explain it to your grandparents at an inquiry before doing the same to them and tucking each swab in a plastic bag provided by the assistant.

Samples collected, the man claps his hands.

"Your results will come in two to three days from now. We can mail the results to you or call you when they're done to come get them."

A grimace briefly forms on your face and disappears.

"I'll call you, what's your business number?"

The man raises a gloved hand to his chin.

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

Nodding, you turn and walk with your grandparents back out the building into the fresh air.

You can leave them here now, but you could use some more time with them to sort shit out.

>[ ] "Do you want to meet the person who helped me find you? He's old too, but I have a feeling you're going to be surprised."
>[ ] "...Is it wrong if I feel envious of you two? There is a lot I never had that you two and a lot of other people did."
>[ ] "There's someone I'd like you two to meet: he's a bit of a stranger, but he helped me out before I met you two."
>[ ] "Let's go back to the car, it's going to be a long drive back to Bellerose at this time."
>[ ] "If you're a twin, Akosua, aren't I more likely to have twin children?"
>[ ] "Is there anywhere else you two want to see before going back?"
>[ ] "Did mother ever get her genes tested in France?"
>[ ] Write In.

Getting late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time if I can before my morning class starts.

Thoughts or questions?

>>3821393
>Do you want to meet the person who helped me find you?

More Silvio Scenes are a good thing.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Do you want to meet the person who helped me find you?"

They'd freak out if you told them who you're talking about and they're going to when they meet the man in person. You'll do your best to calm them down before explaining just what kind of upstanding guy Silvio is behind his past as the Kingpin of New York. He's totally not still up to his old Maggia ways. Mr. Crime Lord man dindu nuffin for a long time.

A smile makes its way on to your face as you turn around.

"Do you want to meet the person who helped me find you?"

Without skipping a beat, your grandparents nod.

You spin back and start leading the stroll to the parking garage.

It takes you about nine minutes to get to your rundown grandparents' cars this time thanks to more people waking up to go to their jobs. A few of them stop and gawk at you before moving along, taking only a picture as a souvenir. Thoughts of smashing phones and hopping away spring to mind, but they go away when you recall the two old folks behind you.

Surprise could kill them while they'd look unfavorable at your wanton destruction of private property along with the media.

The three of you enter the car, fasten your seatbelts, and drive out of the parking lot into the streets of Brooklyn.

Five or so minutes pass until you reach Silvio's fancy ass villa.

Exiting the car, your grandmother gasps as your grandfather whistles.

"W-Who lives in this place?"

Salomon narrows his eyes in the protected entrance's direction.

"Are those... guards?"

You nod as you take the lead.

"Stay behind me, don't reach fast into your pockets, and please take deep breaths while we enter the building."

Confused cries emanate behind you before footsteps follow.

Reaching the front door, you point a thumb back at your grandparents.

"They're with me." You set your hand back down by your side. "Where's the old man?"

A gruff hum rumbles in the Italian-American guard's throat.

"Dining room: he's having breakfast with his granddaughter."

You hum back in a pleased tune and enter the villa with your grandparents in tow as the parallel guard opens the door for you.

The three of you stroll through the Manfredi house with 'ooohs' and 'ahs' coming solely from your elderly folks.

Roasted bacon and scrumptious eggs waft from the air into your nose.

As you finally reach the dining room, your mother's parents stop to grunt and gasp in surprise at a face few people in New York can ever truly claim to not recognize.

Sophia, sitting near Silvio's side, squees in delight at your appearance.

You chuckle in amusement as well as anxiety.

This can go one or a dozen ways.

>[ ] "Silvio, care to introduce yourself to my starstruck grandparents?"
>[ ] "Don't you have anything else going on in your life, Sophia?"
>[ ] "Thanks for finding them for me, old man."
>[ ] "Come on, introduce yourselves."
>[ ] "...What are you two having?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3822801
>[ ] "Silvio, care to introduce yourself to my starstruck grandparents?"

>>3822801
>[ ] "Silvio, care to introduce yourself to my starstruck grandparents?"

It's a bit early before late time but I'm going to call it here for today. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) before my afternoon class starts.

Thoughts or questions?

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Silvio, care to introduce yourself to my starstruck grandparents?"

>(1/2)

While it was a pretty bad idea to come here with them in the first place, you're already here, so you may as well make the most of it. Maybe they'll become the best of friends after the initial social awkwardness wears off; also, when they get over he once had almost all of New York in his pocket. You'll be fine as long as they don't find out who you really are.

"Silvio, care to introduce yourself to my starstruck grandparents?"

The older man rises from his chair. "Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Moon." He shoots you a side-glance. "My name is Silvio Manfredi, and it's a pleasure to meet you two."

Returning an odd glance of your own, you turn back to your parents. "Well? Aren't you going to introduce yourselves? We're all guests here."

Akosua puts a hand on your cheek and tugs, signaling you to come down. The graying women puts her lips by your ear before swallowing. "Boy, don't you know who this is?"

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

For people who supposedly know how to handle themselves around rough company, they sure are showing a degree of ignorance and disrespect right now. Silvio would've had you all killed if he was that kind of mobster. He wouldn't be a family head if he was but still: anyone could bring it up and leave this place without getting their kneecaps broken.

"Of course I do, he's not what everyone thinks he is though."

"B-But he's still a mobster." Your grandfather creeps in, whispering. "He's dangerous to be around."

>(2/2)

You scoff. "I'm right here, aren't I?" Glancing back, you see Silvio sitting and observing your family as Sophia bounces up and down. "Also, I'm pretty sure he can hear us from this distance, and it's awfully rude you two haven't introduced yourselves back."

Both your grandparents jump and step out from behind your tall, muscly body.

"Good day, Mr. Manfredi!" Your father says with a forced smile. "Me and my wife are honored to be here today and honored that you sent our grandson back to us!"

"It was the least I could do for Augusto's child and another grandparent." He looks to his granddaughter. "My Sophia, I'm not sure what I'd do or how I'd live if I lost her."

Silence fills the room as the girl continues to bounce up and down on her chair. A few seconds of this pass before she blinks in realization and jumps out of her seat. "I'm Sophia Manfredi. It's an honor to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Moon."

You snicker while your parents coo.

Lady of the house and she still doesn't have her manners figured out. You don't either, but you don't need them for appearances like she does. Of course, you'll have to pretend to have them but that's pretend. Nice that your grandparents more or less share your view of her as an adorable little idiot. She'll be a real woman soon enough though: Silvio can't keep going on forever.

This could've gone worse, but it went just right.

>[ ] "Sophia, these two old folks aren't mutants so please don't try to lunge at them: you'll break some of their weak bones."
>[ ] "Don't you have anything else going on in your life, Sophia? Don't tell me I'm your only friend."
>[ ] "I already had breakfast with them, so do you mind if we just sit around?"
>[ ] "Nice seeing you, just wanted to show you I met them."
>[ ] "Thanks for finding them for me, old man."
>[ ] "...What are you two having?"
>[ ] Write In.

Cut down the spaces between action and dialogue to go from a more traditional story-telling format that doesn't read like a schizophrenic's journal. Reads a lot better.

Goddammit, I should've done this sooner.

>>3824044
>[ ] "Thanks for finding them for me, old man."
Let him know we just got the testing done as well. Let our grandparents know that Silvio has been nothing but kind to us.

Voting closed; writing now.

Gonna have to go to my afternoon class soon. I'll finish writing and update when I get back.

>[X] "Thanks for finding them for me, old man."

>(1/2)

You are genuinely grateful that the old man united you with your old folks. There's nothing you can do to repay him except watch over Sophia when he passes from this world, which you were planning on doing anyway. It'd be a real shitty and stupid thing to leave her to the vultures in the Silvermane family: they are part of your organization now, whether they like it or not, and Sophia has grown on you. Other than that, you should inform him you're well on your way to getting those fat stacks of your inheritance he has in his office.

A warm smile takes the place of your usual grin. "Thanks for finding them for me, old man."

"It was nothing." The mobster smiles back. "They seem to have put you in quite the good mood."

From the corner of your eyes, you see the two old folks give you concerned glances.

They've only seen you happy around them, you somewhat annoyed in the presence of other people, and you breaking down so far. It's not like you're always in a crummy mood around the old man, but he's seen and heard you go through the usual motions. Makes sense for them to be concerned: they have suspicions you're leaving out a lot of shit from your past, of which you are.

"Of course I am! It's not everyday you get to spend time with grandparents you thought you'd never see alive. We had coffee, had breakfast at a diner, and got DNA samples taken from us at the Universal Genetics lab on Court street. Results will be finalized in two days, and I'll be one step closer to proving my citizenship."

>(2/2)

Silvio claps his hands while Sophia gives you a thumbs up. "Good. As soon as you're done, you can take all the stacks of papers that have been cluttering my desk and sort them out for yourself."

"How about I just appoint you manager of all my estates?" Your fanged grin supplants your smile. "You seem to have been doing a fine job."

The old man's smile die as his usual old man frown and grumble make an appearance. "Please don't: I don't need anymore of this kind of stress in my twilight years."

You snicker before glancing at your confused grandparents.

For open-minded people, they sure do distrust loving old grandfathers who used to be mobsters.

"Silvio's been nothing but kind to me ever since I got into touch with him about my inheritance. He's a good man. Please, give him a chance; he'll surprise you."

The couple share a look and give warm smiles up at your tall bastard self.

It'd be a shame if you didn't get your grandparents to warm up to the old man: you can honestly see them becoming good friends. Poor bastard needs people who aren't other mobsters in his life. He already lost everyone else important to him, besides Sophia.

>[ ] "Sophia, these two old folks aren't mutants so please don't try to lunge at them: you'll break some of their weak bones."
>[ ] "Don't you have anything else going on in your life, Sophia? Don't tell me I'm your only friend."
>[ ] "Nice seeing you, just wanted to show you I met them."
>[ ] "Would you mind if we stayed over a bit?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3824597
>[ ] "Would you mind if we stayed over a bit?"
>Any big plans for the day Sophia?

Voting closed; writing now.

Ain't gonna complete this update in time before my night class starts. I'll finish writing tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) before my morning class if I can.

Thoughts or questions?

Is the new format better or nah?

>>3824779
This new format is so much better holy fucking shit dude. Now my eyes aren't fucking dying at all the gratuitous reddit spacing like before. Also Silvio and Grandpa and Grandma Moon really need to go out and do old people things together and have fun. Eventually.

>>3824784
Why didn't anyone say anything?

goddammit, that's going to turn off so many potential readers in the future if this ever finally blows up

>>3824788
I'm on mobile so it never really stuck out to me.

>[X] "Would you mind if we stayed over a bit?"
>[X] "Any big plans for the day Sophia?"

Asking isn't something you need to do, but it's only polite. He, Sophia, and your grandparents will take you for an asshole if you just do as you please with your seniority over him, ironically. You'd also add more reasons to hate yourself among the dozens you already have. Needless to say, you don't want to gain enough reasons to eventually want to permanently off yourself.

You focus back on the old Italian man. "Would you mind if we stayed over a bit?"

"No, it's fine... Kojo."

The moons share another odd look.

Clearing your throat, you draw the attention away from the awkward shared look. "That's good to hear: been going in and out of here so much I figured you were getting a bit tired of it." You chuckle. "Pretty sure I almost gave you a heart attack last time."

"Ugh, please don't remind me and please warn me before you pull anything like that again."

"Kojo, what did you do?" Your grandmother's voice rings out from your left in a sing-song tune.

You raise a hand to rub the back of your head beneath your horns. "Nothing, I just pulled a prank. It was a bit immature and inconsiderate of me, but Silvio turned out okay sooo..."

The old woman slaps your arm. "Apologize to Mr. Manfredi now, young man."

"Okay." You turn to your now smiling host and repress the urge to twitch. "Sorry about that, Silvio. I just wanted to show off, and I almost killed you in the progress. We good?"

Silvio nods and chuckles. "We're good, Kojo."

"Good." You turn to the resident little tyke and smile at her smile. "Any big plans for the day Sophia?"

"No." She sighs. "I have school today."

You grimace as memories that aren't your own come to mind.

Not one of your absorbed souls has good memories of school, with the exception of Fisk's private lessons in Asia after the murder of his father. Public schooling is indoctrination and daycare for poor children. Literal baby-faced gangs, small-time violence, and pussification was all too common in that female-dominated cesspool.

Really, you're glad you never had to go that fucking place.

>[ ] "Sophia, these two old folks aren't mutants so please don't try to lunge at them: you'll break some of their weak bones."
>[ ] "Can't you afford homeschooling? Private tutors are better than even college professors."
>[ ] "I know it's private but fuck is school horrible in general."
>[ ] "Guess it'll just be you and us, Silvio."
>[ ] "Don't you just hate that place?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3826083
>[ ] "Don't you just hate that place?"
>[ ] "Hang in there. None of them hold a candle to you."
>[ ] "Guess it'll just be you and us, Silvio. I hope it won't be more paperwork."

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Don't you just hate that place?"
>[X] "Hang in there. None of them hold a candle to you."
>[X] "Guess it'll just be you and us, Silvio. I hope we won't be spending time over more paperwork."

>(1/2)

The poor bastards you've eaten would be practically begging you to rant about schools shittiness if they weren't dead, but you'll settle for just commenting on it. No need to make the old folks know you hate their pussy ass bitch of an education system: that's a weird thing they get anal about. You and Sophia don't need any lectures right now.

"Don't you just hate that place?"

The girl nods and crosses her arms. "I'm surrounded by a bunch of fake girls, snobby teachers, and boys too shy to talk to girls!" She huffs. "It's basically daycare for rich kids."

"But you are learning aren't you?" Mr. Granddaddy Manfredi speaks up, lips thinned.

"Stuff I'm probably never going to use when I grow up." Sophia grumbles. "Why can't I just get privately tutored like Artemis?"

An old man grumbles rumbles in the resident widow's craw. "Because you're now her only friend, and you're not going to get opportunities if you don't graduate from a prestigious private academy."

The girl whimpers as she looks down at her table. "Everyone else in Trinity is such a chore to deal with, though. I'm tired of having to pretend I'm happy being there just so people don't pester me about it." She raises her head and grunts. "It's like being around a bunch of smiley zombies too, it's unbearable."

>(2/2)

"Hang in there. None of them hold a candle to you." You smile at the little tyke.

Sophia's eyes widen from their half-lidded depression while her frown turns into a cheerful grin. "Oh, Kojo, you're too sweet!"

You and the rest of the old people laugh at the odd mood shift. Half-way through, your laughing turns into odd chuckling when you notice the young girl keeping up her positive pretty princess mood. The laughter escaping your lips fully dies in consequence of a somewhat disturbing thought striking you.

She just might have a crush on you. Ren did and you never really noticed, but that was more because you made her strangle her own sister to death as the blades of her chain-whip tore through her throat than your almost non-existent obliviousness. You haven't smelled her hormones off in any way that indicated sexuality, which you would've definitely detected with your experience. Either she cares for you platonically or in some odd romantic fashion where she hasn't seen you in a sexual light yet. Could be she hasn't recognized the reason she feels comfortable around you is because of that either. Anyway, you don't know for sure, so it's best you leave it alone for now. While it makes sense, the thought of a girl that young getting hot and bothered over you and thinking you're marriage material is worrying.

"Guess it'll just be you and us, Silvio." You turn to the old man. "I hope we won't be spending time over more paperwork."

Former Mobster Man rests his chin upon his hand. "Trust me when I say I don't want to be going over Fisk's former properties more than you don't."

You chuckle again.

He's just perfectly fits the role of your unwilling assistant.

>[ ] "Sophia, these two old folks aren't mutants so please don't try to lunge at them: you'll break some of their weak bones."
>[ ] "Come on, I'll tell you how me and Silvio handled this whole inheritance business."
>[ ] "Sit down with the old man; I'll go make us another breakfast in the kitchen."
>[ ] "Guess it'll just be you and us, Silvio."
>[ ] Start walking to the table, it's odd continuing the conversation from here.
>[ ] Write In.

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

Thoughts or questions?

SoL feels getting a little boring or nah?

>>3826907
>[ ] Start walking to the table, it's odd continuing the conversation from here.

>>3826975
A bit but I've been really impatient with getting everything squared away so we can start working on our bigger projects.

>>3826907
This >>3827282
I really wanna get to things like
>checking in on our guys
>starting Kingpin work
>handling Vanessa Fisk
>launching KOJO KNOWS YOU
>etc.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Start walking to the table, it's odd continuing the conversation from here.

All three of you have been standing here for far too long. They got over their star-struck-dom quite a while ago. Either they thought they were being polite by waiting to be invited or are still unnerved by the mobster man. Whichever reason it is, it's better you get closer to him: your grandparents' old legs are probably weak enough as is.

You take a step towards the large dining table and motion for the Moons to follow.

Taking a place by Sophia's side, you witness your old folk taking ones to Silvio's right.

Just a few more positive interactions with the old man and they'll be the best of friends. If they see him doing any illegal shit, they'll probably freak out and tell you not to see him anymore though. Silvio is bound to know how to keep his business to himself by now through all his years of experience. The thought of all three of them being close friends kind of warms your heart, as gay as that sounds.

A smile forms on Silvio's face. "I was wondering when you'd finally sit down to talk." He turns toy our grandparents. "Don't your legs get tired from standing around too much?"

The couple nods and laughs.

You share a look with Sophia before you both break apart in a warm smile.

It's weird how old people can look so cute together when they're pretty much mummifying humans. The shriveled skin, gaunt faces, and slowed walking speed are all tell-tale signs of a zombie. Only thing missing from the equation is them biting people and eating the brains of humans. You don't know why, but you'd find that even cuter if that was a thing all old people did: it'd be like if they were nibbly little puppies only old and human.

>[ ] "Sophia, these two old folks aren't mutants so please don't try to lunge at them: you'll break some of their weak bones."
>[ ] "I should introduce you three to another old man I know. You'll get along: he's sweet too."
>[ ] "Let me tell you how me and Silvio handled this whole inheritance business."
>[ ] "Aww, our grandparents look like cute old mummies, don't they?"
>[ ] "I'll go make us another breakfast in the kitchen."
>[ ] Sit around and watch your grandparents interact with the grandparent, better to observe than participate.
>[ ] Write In.

Afternoon class is coming up. Besides that, I also have to help my sister move out so I might not have time to update again. If I don't I'll update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) and if I do I'll update when I can.

Thoughts or questions until then, mein freunds?

>>3827599
>[ ] Sit around and watch your grandparents interact with the grandparent, better to observe than participate.
>Chit chat with Sophia as well.

>>3827668
Aside from Storm, how many of the main line X-Men are people of color? For the life of me I can't think of any other non white X-Men.

>>3827723
There's Dani Moonstar, Prodigy, Proudstar, Skin, Dust, Surge(if you count asians), Psylocke technically but not anymore, Tag, Magik, and Rasputin if you count slavs as being non-white.

Some of those are from the Academy but eh.

>>3827911
I can honestly say I've never heard of any of them except Psylocke.

Voting closed; writing now.

i'm never going to LA again

>[X] Sit around and watch your grandparents interact with the grandparent, better to observe than participate.
>[X] Chit chat with Sophia as well.

>(1/2)

Old people have their old people ways of talking and communicating things to each other. You young people are still using the hip new ways of communicating while they're in their own old ways. It's better you fraternize with Sophia while you watch them talk to one another. Maybe you'll learn how to converse in their own special old people ways by the end of this.

The three graying folk turn and lean towards one another, discussing the frailties of their bodies and either the subtle or inevitable ailing of their minds.

You turn back to Sophia and tilt your head in their direction. "Not even in a couple of minutes of knowing each other and they're already talking like they're old friends."

"They are old." The Maggia princess giggles. "They've got a lot of old people things to talk about: like the economy or politics or some other boring thing the can't control."

"Pretty sure Silvio has meddled with politics at least once in the past. I'm also pretty sure he quit as soon as he was ahead the moment he realized what a cesspool of bullshit a lot of that is; better just to bribe police officials than the entirety of the town hall."

"What?" Sophia raises a curious eyebrow.

You blink and shake your head. "Nevermind, you'll figure it out when you're older and probably doing it for me."

>(2/2)

"I always thought I'd be that one cool and sexy mob boss lady who put cute and handsome recruits in her sex torture room to train into her submissive and loyal guards."

Eyes widening, you crane your head towards the young girl's direction. "...Sophia, where the hell did you get that idea? More importantly, does your old man know?"

The Apparent Bondage Enthusiast tilts her head. "I read about that kind of thing in a few books." She giggles. "Me and Artemis watched something like that back at her place. Why?"

You stare at the previously innocent-seeming girl for a few seconds before focusing back on the old folks laughing like old friends from bygone days.

She can keep her weird sex fantasy of being a mob boss for now. Really, she'll probably make that into a reality when she's in her late teens and fix up one of the empty rooms here. You're fine with it so long as she doesn't tell you, you can't smell it off her, and she doesn't try to get you in it because that would be really fucking weird.

The next half an hour or so passes with you rarely conversing with a confused Sophia as you examine the old folks befriending each other.

Soon enough, the confused little girl is out of the dining room and escorted to a car to deliver her unto her private school, leaving you free of anymore awkward conversations involving her and bondage gear.

>[ ] "I should introduce you three to another old man I know. You'll get along: he's sweet too."
>[ ] "Let me tell you how me and Silvio handled this whole inheritance business."
>[ ] "Silvio, who is this Artemis, who sounds like Sophia's best friend?"
>[ ] "I'll go make us another breakfast in the kitchen."
>[ ] "Do you have any tea I can serve, Silvio?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3829696
>[ ] "Do you have any tea I can serve, Silvio?"
>[ ] "Silvio, who is this Artemis, who sounds like Sophia's best friend?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Do you have any tea I can serve, Silvio?"
>[X] "Silvio, who is this Artemis, who sounds a lot like she's Sophia's best friend?"

>(1/2)

Some sweet tea would do you all some good in this mid-morning climate. You already had coffee earlier, but that was a relatively long time ago. It's not like tea carries anywhere near the same amount of caffeine, although it is slightly less than half on average. You can talk about the mobster princess' kinky little friend while you're slurping down on some.

"Do you have any tea I can serve, Silvio?"

The old man turns from your old folks to you with a smile on his face. "I have several bags for several different flavors. You'll find the teapot in the bottom drawer of the right most row of drawers and the teabags in the right cabinet hanging by the stove; mugs will be in the mounted top left cupboard." He chuckles. "The Moons here already told me how happy you were serving them tea the other night."

Your eye twitches as you rise from your chair.

It is far too odd to have a man who's regularly shown you the respect you deserve call you by your name. He has to in order to get by your grandparents, but it's still off-putting. Not to mention, him hearing you have moments of vulnerability: he may be your personal councilor of sorts but you're still not personal with one another.

"Do either of you have a preference or?"

The old folks shake their heads.

Nodding, you make your way to the kitchen.

>(2/2)

Doesn't take you long to retrieve the teapot, fill it with water, and set it on the gas stove on high. You take down four mugs and retrieve three differently flavored bags of crushed leaves, each complimenting what you think of the old folks with one being your own chosen bag. After the teapot begins to screech, you turn off the stove and pour some hot water into each mug before dunking each bag in its respective cup.

You deliver the cups back to the table two-by-two and sit back down in your seat. "Silvio, who is this Artemis, who sounds a lot like she's Sophia's best friend?"

The old man turns back from your grandparents and hums. "She is Sophia's best friend, the only one I know of at least. Bit of an odd little girl but she seems to brighten my little Sophia's mood."

"Do you know exactly what she does to brighten her mood?"

Silvio blinks before taking a sip of his hot tea. "Kojo, do you know something or do you just feel jealous?"

Your grandparents muffle their laughs into their hands as you tilt your head off to the side, like an ill-handled marionette.

"...What?"

"Do you know something or are you just feeling jealous?"

You scoff. "What the hell do I have to feel jealous for? I have... some friends outside of your grandaughter." Shaking your head, you look away from the chuckling old people.

What Sophia said to you, Silvio will never find out until it's too late, if he isn't already dead by then.

>[ ] "I'd tell you about another old man I know with almost no friends, but he's too sweet for you guys."
>[ ] "...Let me tell you how me and Silvio handled this whole inheritance business."
>[ ] "...I'll go make us another breakfast in the kitchen."
>[ ] "Now you'll never know who else I'm friends with."
>[ ] Sip your tea in silence, it's all they deserve to hear.
>[ ] Write In.

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

Thoughts or question?

Are you feeling SoL hell?

>>3830510
I'm feeling the hell, doc. I think a dose of ultraviolence is needed after we finish the Kingpin documentation and handle Vanessa Fisk safely.

>>3830013
>[ ] "I'd tell you about another old man I know with almost no friends, but he's too sweet for you guys."
>[ ] Sip your tea in silence, it's all they deserve to hear.
I think part of Kojo enjoys being a bit coy about things sometimes, despite how generally brutal and deceptive he is. It might be the demon cat part of him. Yeah.

>>3830510
Yup though I'm not looking for >>3831318 specifically, just moving onto bigger things. Is the shocker a villain yet? I've got some ideas for him if we know who he is.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "I'd tell you about another old man I know with almost no friends, but he's too sweet for you guys."
>[X] Sip your tea in silence, it's all they deserve to hear.

It's now time for you to be the catty ass demon bastard you are deep inside. And by bastard, you mostly mean bitch: acting like one is all you can do in this moment save embarrassing Silvio in font of your grandparents. You're incredibly good at brutality and deception, but you can be a real bastard bitch sometime too.

"I'd tell you about another old man I know with almost no friends, but he's too sweet for you guys."

All three senior citizens shoot you odd looks.

Grandma Akosua hums in a judging fashion. "Kojo, don't deny your old friend a chance to have other friends just because we teased you a bit. Try to gain a better sense of self-esteem: you won't be bothered by some jests."

"Yeah, my boy, you shouldn't take such offense to a few jokes. We value and respect you and we are sorry for any offense we may have caused."

"D-Kojo," Silvio stumbles, "are you okay? You've been acting strange as of late."

You lay back in your chair and stare at the three old folks.

Without a doubt, you understand what they're getting at. And you do hold yourself in a higher regard than the rest of the dysgenic mongrels that plague this earth. It's just that, to a very concerning degree, you despise yourself: you despise yourself so much your very soul is at conflict with itself, your mind. You've been working on that, but learning to stop hating yourself is a lot harder than overly positive people who've never had to deal with anything on your level of fucked up think it is.

Raising your mug to your lips, you sip your tea in silence.

The three old people fix their sympathetics stares on you for a few minutes before whispering among themselves.

A sigh escapes your lips.

You can't trust them with it: all of it is just too much for any of them to bear. It's not comfortable for you to talk about it either. They don't you enough yet and telling them would break them too. For now, you'll deal with it on your own or with Marcus. Maybe you'll open up to them in the future if you haven't already gotten over it by then.

>[ ] "...Phineas Mason is his name. He makes things, like this cool smartphone more advanced than anything on the market."
>[ ] "...Let me tell you how me and Silvio handled this whole inheritance business."
>[ ] "...I'll go make us another breakfast in the kitchen."
>[ ] "...I hate myself."
>[ ] Continue sippin your tea in silence, you don't want to talk right now.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3831951
>[ ] "Look, there's just some things I still want to keep to myself until I work them out, okay? Let's just leave it at that."
>[ ] "...Let me tell you how me and Silvio handled this whole inheritance business."
There's hope for Kojo yet! No losing hope now damnit!

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Look, there's just some things I still want to keep to myself until I work them out, okay? Let's just leave it at that."
>[X] "...Let me tell you how me and Silvio handled this whole inheritance business."

>(1/2)

Pretending you're okay but reluctant will repair some of the facade you've been selling to your grandparents. Sure, they'll keep their suspicions, but you'll at least get them off your ass for a while. You can further distract them with somewhat false tales of how you and Silvio approached your inheritance.

"Look, there's just some things I still want to keep to myself until I work them out, okay? Let's just leave it at that."

Akosua furrows her brow. "Okay but we're not going to stop figuring out what's going on with you if you keep behaving like this. You can only do so much on your own, Kojo." She leans on her husband's shoulder. "We'll always be here for you if you need us."

You blush and turn away, much to the amusement of the old fellows.

It's so hard for you to be a brooding bastard when they up and act all supportive like that. Really, it kind of makes you hate yourself even more for trying to push them away: they're just trying to help you in the end. Maybe they could help you stop hating yourself faster, but you're still not comfortable showing them that side of yourself yet.

Turning back to the old folks, you take a deep breath. "...Let me tell you how me and Silvio handled this whole inheritance business."

You, in-between gulps and sips of unsweetened bitter raspberry tea, explain the press conferences with some assistance from their host.

>(2/2)

Both Moons' faces contort in interest, amusement, surprise, and fear as you tell them how the conferences started, how you made your entrance, and the arrest at the end of the last conference.

Akosua clears her throat. "Did you... Did you really kill a police officer?"

"Not intentionally and under non-provoked assault but I still did." You look down into your mug. "I was declared not guilty, but I feel guilty about it."

"Why didn't you tell us, boy?"

You raise your head to give your grandfather a look. "I'm surprised neither of you heard about the incident before all of this. Even without any way of accessing the news, you were bound to hear rumors about a horned mutant escaping the police."

"Hunts Point is too far from Bellerose for anyone there to care to gossip about it." your grandfather speaks out.

Rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair.

You were waiting for when you had to tell them about that little incident that led to this entire thin and expecting the worse, but much like before, they're not really judging you badly for it. Of course, you're not telling the whole truth but still. They'll definitely reject you if they know who and what you really are.

>[ ] "Phineas Mason is the name of that old man I was talking about. He makes things, like this cool smartphone more advanced than anything on the market."
>[ ] "Oh, I forgot to mention I met Wolverine the next day or two. He was pretty pissed off."
>[ ] "I'll go make us a late morning breakfast in the kitchen."
>[ ] "...I hate myself."
>[ ] Continue sippin your tea in silence, you've spoken enough.
>[ ] Write In.

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

Thoughts or questions?

Are you feeling it now, Mr. anon?

Also, sorry for the wait. Local fish fry was happening and my sister invited me out with her new friends and some guy she's maybe dating or something. Heat was hell but it was good.

>>3833075
>[ ] Continue sippin your tea in silence, you've spoken enough.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Continue sipping your tea in silence, you've spoken enough.

Giving them any more shady-sounding stories will just make them more suspicious of you. Better to watch them converse with Silvio than to further mention all the shit you've been up to as of late. It'd be fun to watch them talk like old folks anyway. The three of you can go back to the crummy apartment after you've overstayed your welcome.

You pick up your mug and slurp up the warm raspberry tea.

Salomon raises an eyebrow and parts his lips before your grandmother places a hand on his shoulder. The Frenchman turns to his Ghanian bride as she shakes her head at him. With a sigh, he switches his attention from you to his new old friend.

The next few hours or so are filled with old people talk about politics, economics, children, and aging bones.

At times, you forget they even know you're here until your grandparents shoot you the occasional concerned glances. You smile back from time to time but stay silent as to avoid incriminating yourself further, which in turn incriminates you more anyway.

It seems a lot like you'll gather suspicion for whatever you do or choose not to do. Understandable, you are a pretty suspicious looking and acting individual. There's just a lot you can't share with them no matter how much you want to be close to them. Really, you doubt you'll ever tell them the truth: they won't be able to bear it and telling it will crush you.

The three old folks chuckle at Silvio's own tale of once meeting Donald Trump.

"D-Did he really say th-that?" Akosua asks, laughing all the while.

"Yes, yes he did!"

Salomon hold his sides. "The absolute madman!"

Covering your mouth, you laugh into your hand.

Old grandpa Silvio glances at you and down at the fancy silver watch on his wrist. "Huh, it's noon already." He looks up to you Moons. "Shall we have lunch here or go out? I know some places that will keep our presences unknown to the public so we can eat in peace."

The aging moons turn to you, waiting.

You straighten out your back and take a breath.

It's your call, apparently.

>[ ] "Phineas Mason is the name of that old man I was talking about. He makes things, like this cool smartphone more advanced than anything on the market."
>[ ] "Oh, I forgot to mention I met Wolverine the day after the incident or two. He was pretty pissed off."
>[ ] "Let's go out, I haven't had something fancy in a while."
>[ ] "I'll go make us an afternoon lunch in the kitchen."
>[ ] "...I hate myself."
>[ ] Pretend to sip your empty teacup in silence, it'd be funny.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3835501
>[ ] Pretend to sip your empty teacup in silence, it'd be funny.
>[ ] "Okay fine! Phineas Mason is the name of that old man I was talking about. He makes things, like this cool smartphone more advanced than anything on the market."
>[ ] "I didn't wanna tell you guys because he's kind of a workaholic and he doesn't exactly like people bothering him for fancy tech."

>>3835501
>[ ] Pretend to sip your empty teacup in silence, it'd be funny.
>Go out

Don't bring up knowing Phineas. That's a bad idea.

>>3835544
ok fine, this is good

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Pretend to sip your empty teacup in silence, it'd be funny.
>[X] "Let's go out, I haven't had something fancy in a while."

Fucking around with old people is always so much fun. This is a pretty small thing to do, but it's still kind of funny in your eyes. One of them might notice and call it to question only to be denied a clear answer, torturing them with the ambiguity to the point they have the slimmest of a chance to be driven insane. It's impossible but that fraction of a chance of it happening make the stupidity of this all worth it.

Lifting your mug back to your lips, you take a sip of your nonexistent tea.

Your grandfather squints as you take a long, drawn-out dry sip. "...Do you even have any left?"

You raise a halting pointer finger in response while drinking your absent hot tea.

"...I don't think he has any tea left." your grandmother speaks up.

In response, you let go of the mug and proceed to keep pretend drinking it with just your bottom lip.

Silvio scoffs. "Now you're just showing off."

You lower your head to the table and let go of the mug, releasing a satisfied sigh. "Let's go out, I haven't had something fancy in a while."

Groaning, the resident Maggia head rises from his chair and motions for the three of you to follow him.

It takes you four several minutes to walk from the dining room, out of the villa, and into a stored limousine inside the mobster's huge garage with a driver already inside, like a live-in cabbie.

The long ass car drives out of the garage into the streets of Brooklyn with all you four inside it.

You and Silvio chuckle at your awestruck grandparents as you first did when you entered Gangsta Grandpa's garage.

"I-It's so smooth!" Salomon runs his hands across the black leather limousine seats. "How much did this cost!"

Akosua, taking out several unopened bottles of liquor from a nearby cooler, giggles like a schoolgirl. "Oh my gods, I heard they come with them but I never thought they really did!"

Covering your mouth, you muffle a full blown laugh.

They had some money back in France, but not the fuck you crime money you're going to have and Silvio already does. You're going to try and get one even fancier than this just to fuck with them the same way; it'd totally be worth it. Besides, you need a vehicle that can stow you and whatever associates you have to spend some time with in the company.

>[ ] "Phineas Mason is the name of that old man I was talking about. He makes things, like this cool smartphone more advanced than anything on the market."
>[ ] "Oh, I forgot to mention I met Wolverine the day after the incident or two. He was pretty pissed off."
>[ ] "Grandma, now is not the time to get drunk; you're passed those days."
>[ ] "Look at you two acting like children who've found a new toy!"
>[ ] Stay silent for most of the trip, no need to raise a fuss now.
>[ ] Write In.

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

Thoughts or questions?

Are you FEEELING IT?

>>3836159
>[ ] "Grandma, now is not the time to get drunk; you're passed those days."
>[ ] "...I guess finding me is special enough for just this once."
>[ ] Stay silent for most of the trip, no need to raise a fuss now.

>>3836161
Yes, but just remember pacing

Voting closed; writing now.

Going to go to my class soon. I'll finish writing and post it when I get back.

>[X] "Grandma, now is not the time to get drunk; you're passed those days."
>[X] "...I guess finding me is special enough for just this once."
>[X] Stay silent for most of the trip, no need to raise a fuss now.

>(1/2)

Any and every good hustler who's been to court knows the best card to play is the fifth. You'll make snide comments about your elders but give little room for much else. The three of them will understand that's just your bitch kitty nature. Each of them just needs to see a cat behave again and they'll immediately see the similarities. It'd be humiliating to be referred to as a demon cat, but you've more or less accepted that already. Besides that, you owe Ren an apology.

You slide your hand off your mouth and grin at your old woman. "Grandma, now is not the time to get drunk; you're passed those days."

A dramatic sigh escapes your grandfather's lips as Silvio laughs harder.

"Ah!" The old woman in question drops the bottle back into the ice and crosses her arms. "Obviously, I know that! I was just seeing what was inside the cooler!"

Tilting your head, a low pitched hum rumbles in your throat. "Really? Looked a lot like you were excited our host had liquor in the car to me."

Mrs. Moon squints her eyes at you before blinking.

Your grin turns into a smirk as the realization of your cattiness dawns on the sweet aging woman's face.

"Oh my gods, you are so much like our little truie!" She pinches and moves around your cheeks. "I can't even stay mad at you!"

Warmth fills your chest and face as you back your head away from the lady's grasp.

>(2/2)

The old folks share yet another laugh while you try to hide your ever reddening face from view.

On second thought, it might be better to say nothing at all.

Your grandfather catches his breath to focus on your resident mobster. "Where exactly are we going, Silvio?"

"Baramonte's, it's high profile but I'll make sure we have our space away from the tourists and the people not on the level."

Another 'ah' escapes your grandmother's lips. "That's very nice of you, Mr. Manfredi." She turns to you. "Are you okay with that, Kojo?"

You relax in your seat. "...I guess finding me is special enough for just this once."

The two aging moons plant hands on your shoulders.

Groaning, you do your absolute best to sink into your chair seat as the limousine rolls along.

It doesn't take you that long to find yourself in a fancy limousine to the inside of a fancy yet homely Italian restaurant. One of the nervous workers leads the four of you plus a few bodyguards from the entrance to your own little private corner of the joint.

You have a rich meaty lasagna with Silvio as your grandfather has a savory Risotto and your grandmother slurps up a nice variety of vegetables from hot minestrom. Akosua shares some of her thick soup with you at your own request and feeds you like an infant, much to your self-confliction and amusement of the other men at the table.

Wiping your mouth, your eyes drift over the empty dishes on the elegant dining table..

All four of you are done here, and you haven't been talking much at all throughout all of this. It's perfect you go your separate ways when you get back to the villa. They'll ask you some questions, but they'll know not to tread too much on your demon kitty tail. You could also try talking to them again as to make them worry less.

>[ ] "The three of us appreciate all of your hospitality, Silvio, but it's time we got back to our crummy apartment in ghetto ass Bellerose Manor... On second thought, can my old folks stay with you until I get my citizenship?"
>[ ] "Oh, I forgot to mention I met Wolverine the day after the incident or two. He was pretty pissed off."
>[ ] "Hold on, I don't think I ever got a phone number from you two. I need to stay in contact."
>[ ] "We appreciate your company and your hospitality, Silvio, but we really should get going."
>[ ] Say nothing and spend more time with Silvio, your grandparents are getting along incredibly well with him despite their initial suspicions.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3837566
>[ ] "Hold on, I don't think I ever got a phone number from you two. I need to stay in contact."
>[ ] "We appreciate your company and your hospitality, Silvio, but we really should get going."
Let's get this whole thing moving along. Don't ask if they can stay with Silvio, they already refused us putting them up once.

>>3837566
this >>3837666
let's progress shit damnit, enough muh self-loathing Kojo
you're really extending this out a fuckton Afungi

Voting closed; writing now.
>>3837747
I've always been horrible at pacing, man. It was tolerable at first but now I'm really starting to notice it since my update rate's gone down.

>[X] "Hold on, I don't think I ever got a phone number from you two. I need to stay in contact."
>[X] "We appreciate your company and your hospitality, Silvio, but we really should get going."

>(1/2)

Keeping in-touch with people is important, especially when those people are your vulnerable surviving blood relatives. You'll probably be sticking around them for the next day or two, but they're still not situated in somewhere safe. Silvio would accept them and while he would, they wouldn't: they're too goddamn stubborn.

You turn to your grandparents. "Hold on, I don't think I ever got a phone number from you two. I need to stay in contact."

"He speaks!" Akosua giggles. "I was wondering when you'd talk again."

Rolling your eyes at your grandmother, you take your genius phone out of your pocket. "You and grandpa were a little too busy laughing it up with Silvio to let me get a word in. Do you two have a house number or not?"

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

A hum rumbles in your throat as you look down and pull up the contacts app of your super genius phone.

You hear a curious motherly hum ring through the air parallel from you. "Just what are you doing?"

"Something that's probably going to catch on in the next few years thanks to me." Finishing the registration of your first contact labeled 'Grandparents,' you slip your genius phone back into your pocket.

>(2/2)

Old man Silvio grizzly grumbles to himself. "As if you younglings didn't have enough ways to disrespect your elders."

Chuckling, you relax in your chair and look to both your grandparents before resting your sight back on the living legend. "We appreciate your company and your hospitality, Silvio, but we really should get going."

"And how will you do that without a vehicle of your own to get back to Bellerose?"

"Obviously, you're going to drive us back. I just said that here so we can get it out of the way, and you three can say your heartfelt goodbyes to your new friend and friends." You grin. "I feel like an adult watching children play: wrinkly, slow children."

The resident grandpas shake their heads laughing to themselves as your grandmother clucks her tongue.

Silvio pays the bill, sets a large tip on the table, and has his men escort you four out of the fancy restaurant back into the fancier limousine.

Your grandparents say their sweet old people goodbyes to the hospitable rich mobster before you three exit the large black vehicle and enter your own extremely downtrodden in comparison car.

The drive back to the slummish apartment in Bellerose takes a few hours but you get there eventually.

Stepping out of the metal and oil carriage, you breathe in the rust of the ghetto side of Queens.

Home sweet home.

>[ ] "Oh, I forgot to mention I met Wolverine the day after the incident or two. He was pretty pissed off."
>[ ] "I forgot to ask this, but didn't you two meet Professor Xavier once upon a time in France?"
>[ ] "Seriously, I can move you out of here in a day with all your stuff if I wanted to."
>[ ] "Excuse me, I need to make a phone call to a certain Buddhist man I know."
>[ ] Laze about for the rest few days as a mutant guard jaguar of sorts, your old folks gotta be safe.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3837927
>[ ] Laze about for the rest few days as a mutant guard jaguar of sorts, your old folks gotta be safe.

>>3837927
This >>3837958

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

Any thoughts or questions?

Hang on with me, my dudes. This is going to be a bumpy uneven paced ride.

>>3838114
I'm really glad we don't have Silvio as an enemy. I guess there'll be an old supervillain later on that will be annoying enough for Kojo to pull the "how many times are we going to teach you this lesson, old man?!" card on. Also we have Vanessa Fisk, Marcus and Alex, and uhhhhh a couple other loose ends to check on?

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Laze about for the rest few days as a mutant guard jaguar of sorts, your old folks gotta be safe.

You've got nothing better to do in the next day or two until you get those test results. It's probably going to take some time for your citizenship to get through too. With enough patience, you'll been done with all this bullshit and chilling in your new place in a manner of week. The wait is going to suck for you, though.

The next several days pass without any real incident besides a gunshot going off a block or two away from this one.

Popping in and out, you retrieve the documents confirming you are the Moons' grandchild a few hours after calling in ahead of time as to mask your weird super powers.

The three of you then set off to the Department of State office in New York to properly file for you passport in the next convulted step in aquiring American citizenship.

You get the usual stares while you're waiting in the government building but are eventually accepted into one of the office's rooms.

After a long hour or two explaining your situation and showing the zombie paper stack pusher your grandparents' documents, your documentation is accepted. Your fancy new passport featuring your smiling demon kitty-eyed face as well as your socialist SSN are set to be mailed to your Grandparens' address in two to three weeks thanks to sixty bucks worth of expedite service fees. Picking them up at the office itself is a security risk while putting it through packaging isn't for some reason.

Thanks to realizing things are finally kind of going your way, you are the most joyful yet impatient demon-cat mutant person to ever exist in all the multiverse during the car ride home and the first week of passport waiting. You're back to your brooding old self when the good goings high wears off, however. A guy like you just can't be happy for long.

You're laying much like an exhausted feline does against the carpet floor when the creaky front door churns open.

"Kojo~" Akosua's warm voice purrs through the air. "Something came in the mail for you."

Groaning, you slump more into the floor. "I don't have a mai-"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jmd4OLzhQw0

You kip-up to your feet, swipe the envelopes from the old woman's hands, tear them apart, and catch two priceless documents in your hands. Grinning, you flip a small book open to a photo of yourself doing the same right back at you with an eagle hanging over his head.

A chuckle builds in your throat that swells up into full-blown maniacal laughter.

It's all yours now, at long last.

>[ ] "Grandma, we are moving out of this shithole whether you or gramps likes it or not!"
>[ ] "...Oh my fuck, I've left my best friend hanging for over half a month."
>[ ] "Excuse me, I need to go visit Silvio!"
>[ ] Keep laughing maniacally, you're sure your grandmother will understand if she doesn't join in on it.
>[ ] Dance with your grandmother, why not?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3838908
>[ ] "Excuse me, I need to go visit Silvio!"
>[ ] Dance with your grandmother, why not?
Dance first, head to Silvio's after.

Going to class soon. I'll close voting and update when I get back before my night class starts if I don't end up nodding off: my sleeping schedule's still a bit fucked.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Dance with your grandmother, why not?
>[X] "Excuse me, I need to go visit Silvio!"

Fuck it, you've waited about two months for this shit to happen; of course you're going to celebrate. Catching up with the others can still wait until after you got fat stacks and houses they can move into. You won't go full NBA free loan giving dumbass negro as you'll be reinvesting in your real business, but you're still giving a lot away for that. It's a drop in the bucket with the Fisk money anyway, not to mention the amount of real estate you already own.

A warm hand ruffles your hair as you laugh like a supervillain at the ceiling. "There, there. I know it's a big deal, Kojo, but you need to lower the volume of your voice: you might attract attention from a passing gangster."

You snake a hand around the smaller woman's waist and gently bend her back.

"K-Kojo!"

Humming a happy tune, you bring her back upright before spinning her around.

"Stop, stop!" Akosua giggles while two you play the fancy dancy footsie. "Save it for your future wife!"

You, magikinesising the door open, separate from the old woman and hop out. "Excuse me, I need to go visit Silvio!" You wave goodbye and jump up again, letting out a deafening 'Wooooooh!' as you fall into a tear in space-time you willed into being.

Silvio clutches his chest when you fall into his office through the wormhole in existence. "Jesus Christ! Don't you know how to use a regular door, Don!"

Hopping to the old man, you envelop his wavering form in a hug.

"...Uh, Don?"

You pull your head back from the mobster's shoulder, kiss both his cheeks, and flash your new legal documents while you flip him both your fingers at the same time.

"Oh, you finally got that done." He lets go of his chest. "Thought it'd take longer for you to get those."

Dropping your hands to your sides, you shoot him a look.

Silvio raises an eyebrow. "...What? What?"

A groan escapes your lips.

He really knows how to kill a great fucking mood.

>[ ] "...Thank you, I kind of lost my head there for a moment. Now gimme, gimme, gimme, gimme, gimme all the stuff that's mine by law. I have a company I need to hostilely take over and rule with my majority shareholdership."
>[ ] "Nope. No, no, no, no, no, no! You are not ruining this for me right now... Clap. Your. Fucking. Hands."
>[ ] "...Oh my fuck, I've left my best friend hanging for over half a month for this."
>[ ] "Where's Sophia? I need to go tell her the news and be congratulated by her."
>[ ] "...Just hand me all the files, Silvio."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3839489
>[ ] "...Just hand me all the files, Silvio."
Buzzkill

Night class is coming up. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) if I wake up before my morning class with enough time.

Thoughts or questions?

fuck me, i think i might fall asleep in class if it's boring, which it almost never is

>>3839489
>[ ] "...Just hand me all the files, Silvio."
>[ ] (To Bold Red) Finally, victory belongs to you and I. One big step forward on this path you and I walk. C'mon, tell me you don't feel the same right now, other me.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...Just hand me all the files, Silvio."
>[X] Finally, victory belongs to you and I. One big step forward on this path you and I walk. C'mon, tell me you don't feel the same right now, other me.

No need to go off on the old man for eighty-sixing quite possibly the greatest mood in your life since eighty-sixing Fisk. Your audible disappointment will be enough for now. He will hear the absence of life in your tone and will die on the inside. If he doesn't, you might make him die for real in accordance with his cardinal sins towards _________________

You stare into the old man's grey eyes. "...Just hand me all the files, Silvio."

"Don, I meant no disrespect, and it's going take you a few magic trips to get all of the manilla folders out of here."

"Just point them out to me then."

Sighing, the mobster moves behind his folder stacked and covered desk before pulling out his drawers. "There are plenty in here as there are on my desk."

The manilla folders rise and begin to float towards you as you take a breath.

Silvio stares in annoyed surprise at the magical phenomena. "Really, you're using magic for this?" He blinks at your complete indifference to his existence and the existence of the world in general. "...I'm sorry, Don."

You turn and walk through another portal back to the Midtown townhouse, magikinesizied manilla folders floating in behind you.

As the stacks place themselves on the living room couch, you let out a satisfied sigh to a shamed old man's heart and your finalized inheritance.

Finally, victory belongs to you and I. One big step forward on this path you and I walk. C'mon, tell me you don't feel the same right now, other me.

There is no path you and I tread for you and I already are. Material wealth is nothing compared to the domination of all things. Instead of focusing on such a minuscule thing, you should focus on mending this separation between you and I: I am no other you.

You frown.

He's right, but you can't exactly fix whatever the hell this is overnight. You're not even sure it is something that needs to be fixed: some people are just born broken, like you and your father were. Besides that, you can't really accept the person you are now. There's something so fundamentally wrong about you that both draws people in yet only hurts them in the end.

A sigh escapes your lips.

There are other matters more important right now than your mental or existential health.

>[ ] Teleport to Fisk tower and walk into the place stock folder in hand, it's time.
>[ ] Call up Phineas, it has been a long time since you've checked in with him.
>[ ] Flip out your burner and call everyone, it's about time.
>[ ] Port back to your grandparents', you can wait longer.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3840810
>[ ] Call up Phineas, it has been a long time since you've checked in with him.
Do either Phineas or the phone have anything that can sniff out bugs?

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Call up Phineas, it has been a long time since you've checked in with him.

Phineas gets your special treatment first before you call your lieutenants who haven't heard so much as a whisper from you since you got out. As an old man, he comes first. The elderly are used to such treatment and will likely demand it from younger, mentally healthy people. For complaining about youth entitlement, they sure feel entitled themselves in all your devoured souls' experiences.

You take your super genius phone out of your pocket, click on the PM Tink contact you made in your one week wait, and plop yourself on to the floor.

The line drones a complete four times before breaking. "Hello, this is Phineas Mason's workshop; how can I help you?" A stranger's voice asks.

Blinking, you take your phone away from your ear and raise an eyebrow at it. "I'm sorry who are you?" A hum rumbles in your throat. "Phineas never told me has any employees."

"I'm Be- Ben! Ben... I'm Ben."

A small groan escapes your lips.

Either this is that friend Phineas talked about or some supervillain's henchmen henching it up like the useless fodder they are. Good chance it's both: your luck is bound to turn back to shit sooner or later and it may as well be now. People are going to be searching for the old man either way. You best move him out of that shitty little workshop of his or have some guards posted inside and outside for his safety soon.

"...Is Phineas there? I need to make sure he's alright."

You hear the rumbling of a hum go through the phone's speakers. "He's, uh, working on something right now. Are you... Nevermind, I'll tell him someone called to make sure he was alright."

The lines ends as your lips curve into a frown.

Whoever this henchfriend is, he's already made a horrible impression.

>[ ] Teleport to Fisk tower and walk into the place stock folder in hand, it's time.
>[ ] Space-time yourself to PM's cover, no one hangs up on you.
>[ ] Flip out your burner and call everyone, it's about time.
>[ ] Port back to your grandparents', you can wait longer.
>[ ] Phase into the workshop, you need to know for sure.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3841122
>[ ] Space-time yourself to PM's cover, no one hangs up on you.
>[ ] Phase into the workshop, you need to know for sure.
What's the difference between these two?

>>3841314
One confronts Ben and the other goes into phineas' real workshop underneath the workshop

Late. I'll close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

Thoughts or questions?

>>3841353
Gotcha. Let's go to the hidden workshop. We know that his robot wouldn't hang up on us.

>>3841353
this >>3841734

Voting closed; writing now

Class is coming up. I'll finish writing and update when I get back.

>[X] Phase into the workshop, you need to know for sure.

You're not going to let a sweet old man, who can become friends with the other old people in your life and make you a shitload of money, die in a fucking basement. It'd be retarded of you to just let this be without figuring out what's really going on. The old man can die when you run out of uses for him and he doesn't want to live any more.

Kip-upping to your feet, you wave a space-time rip into being in front of you and walk through it into Phineas' real workshop.

The small old man is hunched over a familiar abominable automaton set upon a surgery table-like futuristic platform when you catch sight of him.

Ear-churning whirring screeches through the air as Tiny Tin Tim cranes his head to look at you. "There he is, Master Mason! Straight out of another tear made in the fabric of space-time!" He looks back at the old man. "I was not malfunctioning at the time."

"Yes, yes; that's what you keep saying. Just goes to show I'm nowhere near done programming you yet. Oh well, practice makes perfect. You'll be a real boy someday, Tiny Tin Tim."

"Oh boy!" He looks back to you. "Do you hear that, Sir Kojo? I'm going to be a real boy someday!"

The old man stands straight and turns around to stare at you behind his currently bright blue-lensed goggles.

Blinking, you raise a hand and wave. "Hey."

Mr. Mason's goggles shift through several different colors until settling on purple. "...How did you get in here?"

"Ben let me in. You were too busy working on that thing to notice me standing here for, like, seven minutes."

Oddly Manical At Times Man tilts his head. "Ben? Do you mean Beck?"

You resist the urge to raise an eyebrow. "Yeah, Becky: weird guy. Came in to see if you were okay, and he told me you were working on something, so I came down here."

"Actually, Sir Kojo stepped through a strange bright hole that can only be considered a concentrated tear in space-time." The metal tyke speaks up from his operating table.

The old man sighs and glances back at the tincan. "Tiny Tin Tim, just because I gave you the ability to lie does not mean lying is socially acceptable. I'm going to have to reprogram your social protocols."

"I'm not lying, but if you feel the need to reprogram my social protocols, feel free sir!"

"There are times I'm not sure you're being sarcastic or genuinely kind, like I programmed you to be."

You watch in utter confusion as the creator and creation interact.

This is simultaneously disturbing and interesting to the point you want them to keep at this just to know what they're relationship is like, as much as a man can have one with a tincan.

>[ ] "He's not lying: I actually opened a hole in space-time with magic."
>[ ] "Who the heck is beck exactly?"
>[ ] "...I'm going to go now."
>[ ] Teleport back and flip out your burner to call everyone, it's about time.
>[ ] Port back to your grandparents', you can wait longer.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3842477
>[ ] "Who the heck is beck exactly?"
>Do you have anything portable that could scan for bugs? I'd like to know I'm not being spied on when conducting business.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Who the heck is Beck exactly?"
>[X] "Do you have anything portable that could scan for bugs? I'd like to know I'm not being spied on when conducting business."

While you are a very serious man, you can be punny sometimes. That's just how pun you can be and have. Pun has been helping calm you down you down since now in the face of confusing things involving genius old men and their mechanical creations. Besides pun, you need something to help fight corporate espionage and regular shady government agency espionage.

You cluck your tongue. "Who the heck is Beck exactly?"

"That friend I told you about, he's a good boy." The old man takes up a wrench. "If you're looking to hire anyone for your business or with your underhanded work, Beck has a diverse skill set."

A hum rumbles in your throat. "I'll think about it."

Clinks and clunks emit from the surgery as Phineas does whatever he does with Tiny Tim. "Did you come here for anything else, Kojo?" He grunts as he sets aside the wrench. "I'm going to be a bit busy with this little man to help you at the moment."

"Do you have anything portable that could scan for bugs? I'd like to know I'm not being spied on when conducting business."

Phineas turns back around as his goggles switch back to red. "I have an EMP device that short-circuits electrical devices if they're running, a scanner used solely for detecting the use of small electronics, and a kind of sensor app I can program as well as install on to your phone."

"Wait." You raise an eyebrow. "You can do that?"

"How did you think all those apps on a device several decades more advanced than anything on the cellular market came into being?"

Once again, you cluck your tongue. "I know you made them it's just surprising that you can make an app that detects that sort of thing."

"...Nothing." The old man raises a finger. "IS IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO MAKE WHEN IT COMES TO SCIENCE!" He takes a deep breath. "...So long as it is in the realms of engineering, computing, aerodynamics, mathematics, and physics."

"...I'll take your word on that."

Phineas nods and turns back to the static laughing robot child.

Besides being confused about their relationship, you're confused if the super genius little man is demented or just eccentric. He's old so the former is very much plausible, but the latter can be equally true in accordance with genius' insanity. Might not hurt to have a doctor do a check up on him in the future.

>[ ] "How long will it take for you to program that app?"
>[ ] "Take it, I'll expect it back soon though."
>[ ] "...Is this normal, Tiny Tin Tim?"
>[ ] "...Are you okay, Phineas?"
>[ ] "I'll take the devices."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3842835
I really want to show him magic just to get him to make tech using it. The ultimate power of magic plus science to make men into gods. Too bad he will not shut up about it in the process and get himself killed or alienated by everybody else. Shame - making literal magitech and elevating mankind's status through it would be a great way to get immortalized and have people love your work.

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

Thoughts or questions, thots?

>>3842835
>[ ] "How long will it take for you to program that app?"
>[ ] "...Are you okay, Phineas?"
Just need an estimate before we decide for real

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "How long will it take for you to program that app?"
>[X] "...Are you okay, Phineas?"

Time is of the essence here. You need to get into contact with everyone and do what you need to do to get Fisk Industries under your complete control. When you're done with that, you can rest all you want.

"How long will it take for you to program that app?"

Mason tilts his head from side to side before taking a circuit board out of Tiny Tin Tim. "Three fourths of an hour give or take; one hour tops."

"You can program something like that within an hour?" You raise an eyebrow. "The entire computing team over at Fisk Industries can't do that in a week, much less with the help those slave interns give."

The all too familiar cackling of a maniacal madman fills the air. "I AM THE TINKERER!" He clears his throat. "...I can develop whatever I wish if it's in the realms of engineering, computing, aerodynamics, mathematics, and physics."

"...Are you okay, Phineas?"

PM Tink turns around as his goggles change colors to light blue before taking the things off, revealing his beady old man eyes. "Why yes, I am. My apologies if my outbursts have disturbed you, Kojo. I just get this way whenever I'm tinkering: it's a bad habit."

"Uh." You raise a hand to scratch the back of your head. "It sounds like more than just a bad habit, though."

"I assure you there is nothing wrong with my mental state or anything wrong with my brain's healh. These little outbursts of mine have been happening ever since I was a child."

A picture of a little bald, vulture-like child cackling as if they had onset dementia pops into your mind.

You really shouldn't be surprised by this kind of thing considering you've met a Japanese man with an ancestral demon prison blade katana, but it's still pretty off-putting just casually meeting people like this all the time. Unique people do tend to attract other unique people in your experience although this is a bit too much. For once, you'd like to know a 'normal' person. Marcus is somehow the closest person to normal you know despite all the bullshit you've gone through with him in the past: he's just a normal, albeit now magical, black dude trying to make it in this life.

>[ ] "Take it, I'll expect it back soon though."
>[ ] "...Is this normal, Tiny Tin Tim?"
>[ ] "...Please tell me you're joking."
>[ ] "I'll take the devices."
>[ ] Sneak into a corner, teleport back, and flip out your burner or your genius phone to call everyone, it's about time.
>[ ] Wait for him to turn around and port back to your grandparents', you can wait a little while longer.
>[ ] Write In.