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

>Issue #28 Star Knight Edition:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/3886230/

>Previous Thread(s):
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

>>3968360
>[ ] "No, he's right: I have not actually done any kind of real work in my entire life. I am remarkably good at being a CEO, though. Almost like I've been one for most of mine."
>[ ] Dig in, it's only polite.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "No, he's right: I have not actually done any kind of real work in my entire life. I am remarkably good at being a CEO, though. Almost like I've been one for most of mine."
>[X] Dig in, it's only polite.

He may have gotten himself into this situation on his own, but he wouldn't have if you didn't done make yourself a guest in his household. No better way to foster a better bond with the man other than digging him out of his self-made grave. That feeling of gratitude and indebtedness really gets to people. A human brain's misplaced sense of fairness does that to them.

"No, he's right: I have not actually done any kind of real work in my entire life. I am remarkably good at being a CEO, though. Almost like I've been one for most of mine."

May blinks. "Huh, I suppose you must have some sort of natural talent. Some people are just gifted that way."

"Someone with enough experience and practice can probably become a better CEO." Parker speaks up.

"Key word you're using here is probably, Pete. Some things are what they are, life is unfair that way."

"It's not always like that."

"Yeah, it's just that way most of the time."

Parker sighs and nods before rising from his chair and walking to the kitchen stove.

You turn your attention back down to the plate on the bale in front of you and plunge your fork into your seared steak meat. Cutting a strip of the cooked flesh off, you flick the morsel from your fork into your open mouth. A low hum murmurs in your throat as you try to restrain your natural, predatory urge to enjoy your well-cooked and seasoned meal.

If you were in a more confined and private place where there wasn't any people you were trying to get on the good-side of, you'd be enjoying this to your heart's content It's not as bloody as you prefer it to be, but it's fine.

Four more rich strips find themselves in your stomach before energy-rich vegetables follow them into your internal vat of acid.

Pete is back in his seat by the time you raise your head up from your plate to his and his side of cornbread.

Coffee would go really well with that right now.

>[ ] "So, Peter, just what have you photographed? I mean, I know some of what you've done but not all of it."
>[ ] "...I forgot to mention that the Wolverine broke into my office earlier today."
>[ ] "Ms. Parker, you do know what other work your nephew does, right?"
>[ ] Eat more, it's really good.
>[ ] Get up again, heat up some water, and make everybody tea and coffee. What other way to contribute to dinner?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3968629
>[x] "So, Peter, just what have you photographed? I mean, I know some of what you've done but not all of it."
>[x] "...I forgot to mention that the Wolverine broke into my office earlier today."

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

Thoughts or questions?

Daily Advice: do not work out sore muscles, you will fucking hate it.

>>3968651
support

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "So, Peter, just what have you photographed? I mean, I know some of what you've done but not all of it."
>[X] "...I forgot to mention that the Wolverine broke into my office earlier today."

>(1/2)

The kid's been active for a while, and he seems to have stopped more crime than any other superhero you know about, publicly at least. You doubt he's encountered anyone big time on account of not knowing all the former major players in the underworld before you told him. On the more legal side of things, Jameson is bound to have sent him to catch pictures of something else other than himself.

"So, Peter, just what have you photographed? I mean, I know some of what you've done but not all of it."

Mr. Sticky Man raises his gaze from his plate to you. "Beyond pictures of Spider-man, not that much, for the Daily Bugle at least: we do live in New York, a city home to over a hundred and sixteen landmarks. Not to mention home to a lot of modern, gothic, and old-school architecture. I'd be missing out if I just took pictures of Spider-man."

"I meant more in terms of other vigilantes and 'super villains' than landmarks and architecture. You're bound to have encountered some taking photos of all the fights the Web-head gets in with them."

"Oh dear!" May speaks up. "You haven't put yourself in any unnecessary danger have you, Peter?"

The rookie photographer blinks. "Uh, not any beyond the usual kind when I take photos of Spider-man."

"And what exactly is the usual kind of unnecessary danger you take when taking pictures of him?"

"...Falling down stairs and off the ledges of buildings but not much else."

"Peter."

"What?" The rookie hero digs a fork into his steak. "Spider-man's usually there to catch me if I fall, and I never do. It's the same as being at school, Aunt May. There's nothing to worry about."

>(2/2)

"But I do worry. I feel like you're going to get hurt one of these days or not come home at all and find you in the hospital or, god forbid, the morgue. You took pictures of the Wolverine, other villains with power, and they were published with your name on them. Don't you think that could come back to hurt you one of these days?"

Parker parts his lips before closing them as he raises a thinking hand to his chin.

Blinking, you let out a sigh. "...I forgot to mention that the Wolverine broke into my office earlier today."

"What?!"

You nod affirmatively at your hairy friend's outburst. "He just kind of broke in, knocked out my security, and probably frightened my secretary who didn't mention it later for some reason." Raising a hand to your chin, you hum. "She must have been out."

"Why did he do that?" May asks.

"Something to do with my mutanthood and lack of affiliation with the X-men, I'm not sure. He was just kind of raving before the police took him away."

"And he just let them?" Parker speaks up, a concerned look on his face.

Nodding again, you hum. "Considering his connections, he's probably already out."

The kid narrows his eyes and look back down at his plate.

If he payed you a visit, he's likely to come here eventually and probably out the kid's secret identity. You wouldn't put it past the hairy Canuck to do that, but you do doubt he'll tell anyone besides his aunt. Parker's going to get fucked either way.

>[ ] "I can have bodyguards posted by if you want, former special forces mercenaries. Little expense on my side and I do like your work. Though, that may exacerbate things."
>[ ] "Everything is fine, Peter. You all have nothing to worry about. I doubt the current headmaster of the X-men will let Wolverine pull another stunt like that."
>[ ] "Ms. Parker, you do know what other work your nephew does, right?"
>[ ] Eat more, it's really good.
>[ ] Get up again, heat up some water, and make everybody tea and coffee. What other way to contribute to dinner?
>[ ] Write In.

>[X] "I can have bodyguards posted by if you want, former special forces mercenaries. Little expense on my side and I do like your work. Though, that may exacerbate things."

Lets look like we are trying to help keep those he loves safe

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "I can have bodyguards posted by if you want, former special forces mercenaries. Little expense on my side and I do like your work. Though, that may exacerbate things."

Showing you care by making grand offers of top tier paramilitary protection will no doubt further lay the groundwork for trust between you and the rookie hero. It's the least you can do anyway since you're the one who put him in this precarious position in the first place. Wouldn't be right if you just let Logan reveal his secret to May like that.

"I can have bodyguards posted by if you want, former special forces mercenaries. Little expense on my side and I do like your work. Though, that may exacerbate things."

May blinks. "Former special forces mercenaries?"

"Ex-GRU Spetsnaz, Ex-Green Berets, Ex-GROM, and Ex-SAS: nothing but the best."

Parker raises his head along with an eyebrow. "What about the Navy Seals?"

"What about those glorified frogmen who are completely useless on land and in actual warfare?"

"...I don't understand."

"You don't need to understand anything except for the fact that you and your aunt will be safe under the watchful guard of Barrett M107s with armor-piercing black-tipped .50 BMG rounds."

"We can't accept." May says. "Nothing has even happened yet. Please, save your money."

"Yeah, I doubt they can stop the Wolverine anyway." Pete speaks up.

You scoff. "Dude, they're going to have anti-material rifles: they can level this building with them if that's what they wanted to do."

"Oh dear, that sounds like a bit too much,, don't you think?" The old woman asks.

"Maybe, but nothing less than that or me is going to keep him off your backs if he shows up and is in the mood to shed some blood."

Parker sighs. "Just how strong are you anyway?"

You shrug.

The kid blinks. "...You don't know."

Nodding, a hum of affirmation rumbles in your throat.

"And you think you can take him?"

"Think?" You shake your head. "I know I can. Strength has nothing to do with that and even if it did, I'd stomp him with my pinkie. Been years since I've made a serious punch, much less try and use my full strength."

Parker's hazel eyes lock with your devil one's.

He's right to doubt you but he should really know better than to question your continuously growing power.

>[ ] "Everything is fine, Peter. You all have nothing to worry about. I doubt the current headmaster of the X-men will let Wolverine pull another stunt like that."
>[ ] "I'm going to have men posted around your neighborhood anyway. Think of them as your friendly neighborhood sniper-men."
>[ ] "Ms. Parker, you do know what other work your nephew does, right?"3
>[ ] Eat more, it's really good.
>[ ] Get up again, heat up some water, and make everybody tea and coffee. What other way to contribute to dinner?
>[ ] Write In.

>[ ] "Everything is fine, Peter. You all have nothing to worry about. I doubt the current headmaster of the X-men will let Wolverine pull another stunt like that and if they do then i will have my men and myself if needed put a stop to them. The world needs more men like you peter, clever and brave. It would be a true loss if something happened because you were doing you job."

>[X] "Everything is fine, Peter. You all have nothing to worry about. I doubt the current headmaster of the X-men will let Wolverine pull another stunt like that and if they do then i will have my men and myself if needed put a stop to them. The world needs more men like you peter, clever and brave. It would be a true loss if something happened because you were doing you job."

Forgot to add the X. Anyway slightly modded to make us come off as more concerned for him and a desire for him to continue being spidernan while implying to may we like his personality and him personally.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Everything is fine, Peter. You all have nothing to worry about. I doubt the current headmaster of the X-men will let Wolverine pull another stunt like that, and if they do, then I will have my men and myself if needed put a stop to them. The world needs more men like you Peter, clever and brave. It would be a true loss if something happened because you were doing your job."

Buttering him up while offering both the Parkers some comforting words would get you somewhere. People are suckers for cheesy shit like that for some really weird reason. The human condition fucks with poor naive saps that way, but they have no one but themselves to blame. Of course, like the pathetic victims they are, they'd assign all the blame on to you rather than admit their folly.

A smile makes its way on to your face. "Everything is fine, Peter. You all have nothing to worry about. I doubt the current headmaster of the X-men will let Wolverine pull another stunt like that, and if they do, then I will have my men and myself if needed put a stop to them. The world needs more men like you Peter, clever and brave. It would be a true loss if something happened because you were doing your job."

"...Kojo," Spider-boy glances to his aunt before focusing back on you, "I'm a photographer."

"Damn good one at that and photographing the pictures no one else can while putting your name on them."

"It's really not that big of a deal, man, though I appreciate the sentiment."

"When or if push comes to shove, we'll give you a call." May says.

A hum rumbles in your throat. "That'd be hard since you don't know my number, which I'll now tell you: Seven-One-Six, Three-Three-One, Nine-Five-Six-Five. It's my office number to be exact, my secretaries at least. She'll forward your call to me or send in a well-equipped squad of my hired security."

"Oh, alright. I'll write it down as soon as we're done eating here.

"I can text you it if you guys have cellular phones on you."

"Well that's fine. My mobile phone's number is Nine-One-Seven, Three-Six-Five, Five-One-Eight-Nine." The old woman turns to her nephew. "Peter?"

The kid sighs. "Nine-One-Seven, Eight-Eight-Eight, One-One-Three-Five."

Yet another hum of affirmation rumbles in your throat.

That makes getting in touch with them way more easier than just teleporting in.

>[ ] "I'm going to have men posted around your neighborhood anyway. Think of them as your friendly neighborhood sniper-men."
>[ ] "Neither of you will get scams calling you from my end, I promise."
>[ ] "Ms. Parker, you do know what other work your nephew does, right?"
>[ ] Eat more, it's really good.
>[ ] Get up again, heat up some water, and make everybody tea and coffee. What other way to contribute to dinner?
>[ ] Write In.

Late, like early morning where I'm at. Will close voting and update probably in the afternoon.

Thoughts and questions?

Daily Advice:switch to almond milk, it's sweeter with less of the fat

>>3971364
>[X] "Neither of you will get scams calling you from my end, I promise."
would it be rude or polite to make coffe and tea without them asking?

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3971428
depends on person to person

>[X] "Neither of you will get scams calling you from my end, I promise."

Comedic reassurance is just what you need right now to bring the mood up after that grievous mention of special forces mercenaries armed with weapons that could demolish their comfortable home. You probably shouldn't have mentioned that, but you had to correct Parker's foolish claims of Wolverine's invincibility. He should really know better having taken down Marko more than a couple of times.

"Neither of you will get scams calling you from my end, I promise."

"I wasn't thinking of that at all, and I now have the sneaking suspicion you are going to do exactly that." Parker says.

You cluck your tongue. "Where's the trust in this relationship? I know the circumstances behind my ascension to CEO as well as my inheritance were suspicious, but I've done nothing but legal business since I've assumed this position."

"Oh come on, you... you know exactly where I'm coming from."

"Do I?" You cross your arms. "I'm beginning to feel like you have some less than savory thoughts about certain groups of people from certain backgrounds."

"Of course I do, it'd be dumb if I just ignored what was right in front of me after all the things you've told the public."

"Peter!" May scolds. "You were raised to be better than that."

You raise a hand to your mouth to muffle a laugh as the rookie hero blinks.

This conversation turned into a direction you didn't really expect but were secretly hoping for.

"I... Wait, did you think I was talking about..." Parker's eyes widen. "No! Oh god, no! I'm not... How could you even think I have thoughts like that? You and Uncle Ben taught me to be better than that. I would never think less of people on the basis of how they look like."

"Sounded an awful lot like that, though." May says.

The kid looks down at his plate of food and sighs. "It does sound an awful lot like that when I actually take the time to think about it now."

Looking down at your own plate, you purse your lips shut.

Dinner with the Parkers is just way to fun.

>[ ] "I'm going to have men posted around your neighborhood anyway. Think of them as your friendly neighborhood sniper-men."
>[ ] "Ms. Parker, you do know what other work your nephew does, right?"
>[ ] Eat more, it's really good.
>[ ] Get up again, heat up some water, and make everybody tea and coffee. What other way to contribute to dinner?
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time if there's a vote.

Thoughts or questions about the Parkers and their virtues?

Daily Advice: never play 2nd edition DnD, THAC0 will ruin you

>>3972207
Should we say something like that we dont take it badly

>>3972207
>>[X] Eat more, it's really good.
I say we quietly eat as we let Peter dig a hole...

>>3973643
...and then throw him some kind of lifeline, like how we knew he didn't mean it like that and can tell he was raised right. Or something.

>>3971428
>would it be rude or polite to make coffe and tea without them asking?
Probably.
We can ask politely though, to segue out of Peter being racist.

>>3973342
>Daily Advice: never play 2nd edition DnD, THAC0 will ruin you
THAC0 is dumb, but them's fightin' words.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Eat more, it's really good.
>[X] Save Peter, he a good boy.

>(1/2)

It would be very improper and unopportunistic of you to not enjoy a meal while you watch Parker quite possibly dig himself deeper in that good old if-it-sounds-like-it's-racist-it-is-racist hole people who have never been or had an actual productive conversation about the subject do. Of course, you have to lift him out of that pit of human ignorance for appearances sake and because you can't just let him suffer like that. You've lived around actual racists for most of your life, dismantled race gangs of many different varieties of race and racism, more or less are the sole origin of decline in racial tensions within the Bronx, and defiled more than your share of Aryan and every other oh so special racial term princesses. Peter is innocent of any kind of racist thoughts.

You dig your fork into your steak and cut another piece off as Peter does the same.

"...But it wasn't actually racist." Peter mutters.

"Please, let's not argue about this."

The rookie hero holds out his hands by his sides. "What's there to argue about? I wasn't referencing to Kojo's race, I was referring to that poverty-stricken hellhole that is the Bronx..." He turns to you. "No offense."

You smile and chuckle. "None taken."

>(2/2)

"Still, having those kind of thoughts can really land you in trouble, Peter, or get you thinking those awful things." May speaks up.

A hum rumbles in your throat as you flick another strip of meat into your mouth. "Peter's just making an assumption, a well-found and deserved one. I know that not assuming could be good for people, but you can't just ignore the initial feelings you get off others. Assumptions are only bad when made without seeking proof to prove or disprove them." You chuckle. "Assumptions were actually one of the first things Peter brought up in our conversations. I can tell you helped raise him right trying to not assume, but that's just impossible: human beings are not at all capable of that or should be. Stereotypes exist because people exhibiting the same behavior among certain groups of people like that exist, as ignorant as that may initially sound. Unfortunately, if you meet with an underage man covered in tattoos with two children, he is actually more inclined to beat you in spite of your age and take your purse or," you scoff, "your fucking shoes of all things." Frowning, you mash the rich seared flesh in your mouth to fine pulp before swallowing. "Race, color really, has little to do with it. The backwards culture that thug came from has the second-most influence, the thug the most for being too weak-minded to ignore that nonsense he was born into."

The two Parkers blink in silence while you chow down on some asparagus.

Wasn't exactly your intention to make the table silent, but you tend to to have that kind of effect in any situation when you talk about 'inconvenient' truths or your past. They're just too painful for some people to hear. It's also usually delivered in such a manner to violate the ever rising politically correct norms people from more well-off areas are developing. You're going to have to work on that until you can manipulate the culture of this society.

>[ ] "...People completely forget about where I came from before the here me talk about these kind of things. Hard to hear something like that from someone who actually lived through it, huh?"
>[ ] "I'm going to have men posted around your neighborhood anyway. Think of them as your friendly neighborhood sniper-men."
>[ ] "Ms. Parker, you do know what other work your nephew does, right?"
>[ ] Eat even more, it's really really good.
>[ ] Get up again, heat up some water, and make everybody tea and coffee. What other way to contribute to dinner and avoid this awkward silence?
>[ ] Write In.

>[ ] "...People completely forget about where I came from before the here me talk about these kind of things. Hard to hear something like that from someone who actually lived through it, huh?"
>[X] "Being from the bottom helps. It helps keep me grounded and from forgetting what it's like at the bottom."

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3977095
makes sense

>[X] "...People completely forget about where I came from before the here me talk about these kind of things. Hard to hear something like that from someone who actually lived through it, huh?"
>[X] "Being from the bottom helps. It helps keep me grounded and from forgetting what it's like there."

Best to address the matter to diffuse the tension and also make sure they don't bring it up again. Letting things like that be is how you let people receive false proof for their assumptions of you. If you settle it now without letting it stew to fuck you over in the future, you can help confirm some of those positive assumptions and disprove negative assumptions of you.

"...People completely forget about where I came from before the here me talk about these kind of things. Hard to hear something like that from someone who actually lived through it, huh?"

Peter nods. "Yeah, it's brutal: you're probably the rawest person I know and I've barely known you personally for more than a couple of weeks."

"And you also say it without any prejudice, quite eloquently if I might add." May says. "You haven't let your newfound power and wealth make you forget what life is like for most other people."

"Being from the bottom helps. It helps keep me grounded and from forgetting what it's like there."

"Just don't live in your past. You're at the age where a lot of people get caught up in that, but it seems like you've done a good job moving on."

You blink as the image of your old young self flashes in the glint of the old woman's glasses.

If only she or anyone else other than Marcus had any idea of what happened back then to make you the way you are now. Something beyond this world was irreparably altered and events outside of your rebirth helped point you down this road. Had Dan or Abuelita lived, you're sure you would have never reached this point or even tried to: his death gave you that first taste of power that led you to the top.

>[ ] "I'm going to have men posted around your neighborhood anyway. Think of them as your friendly neighborhood sniper-men."
>[ ] "Pretty sure we're all living in the past, seeing as how we wouldn't be the people we are if not for that."
>[ ] "The past just doesn't go away like a bad dream, though. It'll always be there."
>[ ] "Ms. Parker, you do know what other work your nephew does, right?"
>[ ] Eat even more, it's really really good.
>[ ] Get up again, heat up some water, and make everybody tea and coffee. What other way to contribute to dinner and avoid this awkward silence?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3977989
>[ ] "The past just doesn't go away like a bad dream, though. It'll always be there."
Show a little vulnerability. Keep Pete guessing.
>Eat more

Voting closed; writing now.

might walk my dog instead of fall asleep this time so expect maybe a late update

>[X] "The past just doesn't go away like a bad dream, though. It'll always be there."
>[X] Eat even more, it's really really good.

May as well drop some more tears of truth on to these naive innocent people. It'd also throw Pete off if you showed some vulnerability around his idealistic rookie hero ass. You can't have him know the real you just yet until he's ready to see things from your perspective. When he is, you can warp him into what you want him to be and into a useful pawn to use whenever you need him.

"The past just doesn't go away like a bad dream, though." You sigh. "It'll always be there."

May hums. "Yes, but the effect it has on you is something you decide for yourself?"

You glance down at your plate as you vaguely see Parker doing the same.

It's easy to say that, and you do agree with that sentiment, but a mind phantom that can apparently fuck with you on the goddamn cosmic level isn't exactly something you can just fight off. You still don't know why it's still here and neither does it. For some reason, he just won't move on and let himself die. He'd be at peace if he could do that one simple thing.

Stabbing your fork back into your steak, you cut the rest of the slab of meat into strips and devour them one by one.

Parker, munching on his own meat, stares at you while you stare back at him.

He said something back on that rooftop about his actions hurting people, which you brought on and ultimately comforted him about. Kid's probably hiding something too: not everyone is raised by their aunt with no sign of their parents anywhere. The uncle also seems to be out of the equation too.

Lifting your plate to your lips, you rake the rest of the greens into your mouth where they are reduced to a fine nutritious and energy-filled paste before sliding down your throat and seeping into your body.

A pleasant dinner. It might be good to stop by more often and participate in this nearly empty household. You could even involve your grandparents and use them to show Parker you are actually a 'good' person, however distasteful that may be. He'll open up to you eventually and probably tell you where he fucked up among the lines.

>[ ] "I'm going to have men posted around your neighborhood anyway. Think of them as your friendly neighborhood sniper-men."
>[ ] "Pretty sure we're also all living in the past, seeing as how we wouldn't be the people we are if not for that."
>[ ] "Ms. Parker, you do know what other work your nephew does, right?"
>[ ] "Can I serve myself cornbread?"
>[ ] Get up again, heat up some water, and make everybody tea and coffee. What other way to contribute to dinner and avoid this awkward silence?
>[ ] Write In.

>[X] Get up again, heat up some water, and make everybody tea and coffee. What other way to contribute to dinner and avoid this awkward silence?
>[X] "My grandparents would probably love the two of you. Perhaps i should arrange a play date?" Grin teasingly

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Get up again, heat up some water, and make everybody tea and coffee. What other way to contribute to dinner and avoid this awkward silence?
>[X] "My grandparents would probably love the two of you. Perhaps i should arrange a play date?"

Contributing with tea or coffee could help even further endear you to these two pleasant Parkers. It'd also give you something pleasant to drink with the cornbread if they offer some. You'll bring up your grandparents either after or during to humanize you more. They'll love them and therefor love you by proxy of being the doting and doted grandson.

You get up from your chair, take out a kettle from a cupboard you saw using your third eye the first time you came here, fill it up with some stored water, and put it over the now flaming stove.

"Kojo, what are you doing?" May asks.

"Boiling water for tea and coffee: figured you guys could use some to go with the cornbread. You just can't have sweet pastries without one of those two things to hold and drink from your off-hand."

"Cornbread is cornbread." Peter, raisin an eyebrow, says.

"And cornbread is a pastry."

"Pretty sure it's not."

You cross your arms. "A croissant is a pastry, a muffin is a pastry, and cornbread is a pastry."

"...How do those three things relate to each other?"

"Besides being pastries, they're all types of pastries that might not have a sweet gunky coating on it to give you diabetes. Henceforth, cornbread is a pastry."

"Okay, this just leaves me with one question: how do you know that."

A smile makes its way on to your face. "Grandparents talked my ear off about it when they actually made me cornbread this one time. They used to run a bakery but business went south so that apparently makes them experts. I'd stop them but they look way to into it for me to break the spirits."

Parker blinks. "...You have grandparents?"

"I have parents, absent and presumed dead, so yeah, I have grandparents."

"How did you find them or even know they were still out there?"

"Paid a lawyer to look into them and I didn't. Really glad how it turned out, though. Was a miracle."

"...Huh." Parker looks back down to his food.

"My grandparents would probably love the two of you." You grin. "Perhaps I should arrange a play date?"

Aunt May giggles. "That sounds lovely, you should give us their number."

You chuckle as Peter resists the urge to facepalm.

Finally, a Parker that can take banter.

>[ ] "I'm going to have men posted around your neighborhood anyway. Think of them as your friendly neighborhood sniper-men."
>[ ] "Pretty sure we're also all living in the past, seeing as how we wouldn't be the people we are if not for that."
>[ ] "Ms. Parker, you do know what other work your nephew does, right?"
>[ ] "I'll give them yours: I'm an overprotective grandson."
>[ ] "Can I serve myself cornbread?"
>[ ] Write In.

>[X] "I'll give them yours: I'm an overprotective grandson."

Voting closed; writing now.

File: Mercy Me.jpg (639 KB, 780x2419)

639 KB JPG

>>3979007
>Finally, a Parker that can take banter.

That's an understatement, I think of everyone we've encountered May Parker is the most dangerous motherfucker that we may never wish to cross.

>>3979269
Well May IS former SHIELD in some continuities after all.

Makes sense she would have skills.

>>3979786
May Parker taking down Cudda. Imagine the scene. Imagine the use of the term “Language young man!”

>[X] "I'll give them yours: I'm an overprotective grandson."

While you do like and enjoy th Parkers' company, you can't just trust anyone with the location or contact info of the last family you have alive. Maybe you'll tell them once you're sure neither can be compromised by interested, hostile parties. You'll have them meet and communicate primarily by grownup play dates for now. After you've found a way of securing them along with the Parkers, you can have them keep in contact.

"I'll give them yours: I'm an overprotective grandson."

"Oh come now, we can be trusted."

You nod. "I know that, it's just that a man in my position can't give out contact information that can be used to track down what remains of my family." Frowning, you sigh. "They're precious to me, and I don't know what I'd do if I was even partly responsible for their harm."

Both Parkers furrow their brows in sympathy.

That wasn't a lie or an attempt to endear yourself: you really have no idea what you would do if you had a hand in harming them. Neither of them deserves to suffer and both have become precious to you despite the relatively brief time you've known them. Bonds of true kith and kin tend to turn out that way so it seems.

A kettle's steam screech takes you out of your thoughts.

Turning off the stove with one hand, you reach into the nearby mug cupboard with the other to bring down some ceramic cups before pouring some piping hot water into all three. "Tea or Coffee?" You spin around to the two Parkers.

"I can make tea myself." May, rising from her chair, says.

Nodding, you look to Peter.

"I'm fine." The kid shakes his head.

You raise an eyebrow. "Dude, you can't have a pastry without one or the other."

"Well, I'm choosing not too."

Spinning back around, you grab some instant coffee mix out of another cupboard and mix it into two of the mugs as May puts a teabag into her chosen one.

May sits back in her chair with her teacup in hand while you place a mug with coffee in front of Peter before sitting back down in your seat.

Peter shoots you a look. "...I said I was fine."

"And you were wrong, now you're fine."

"I don't..." The rookie hero groans.

Ms. Parker giggles at your bitch bantering.

You really need to make this kid stop taking all this so seriously. His side-job doesn't make that attitude any easier. Good chance the poor bastard is going to burn himself out if he doesn't take the time to relax. While you do admire that kind of serious-mindedness, too much of it leaves you stone-faced, a lot like your old self. Marcus is the straight man to your colorfulness and even he knows when to take it easy.

>[ ] "I'm going to have men posted around your neighborhood anyway. Think of them as your friendly neighborhood sniper-men."
>[ ] "Why are you so on edge, Peter? You should take some time to relax."
>[ ] "Ms. Parker, you do know what other work your nephew does, right?"
>[ ] "Can I serve myself cornbread?"
>[ ] Write In.

forgiveness for the lateness, i am a sleepy sleepy graveyard shift worker

>[X] "Kid you got to lighten up. Relax and stop taking things so seriously. Dont want grey hair in your twenties or somthing right?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Kid you got to lighten up. Relax and stop taking things so seriously. Don't want grey hair in your twenties or something right?"

>(1/2)

No harm in playfully calling him out on being overly serious about shit. May is likely to agree with you on that: she seems caring enough to notice that in a boy who may as well be her son instead of her nephew. If he burns out, he might hurt someone or himself with those powers of his. You kind of envy his ability to punch and not break or crack the bones in his fists, it's been years since you've made a real fist anyway.

"Kid you got to lighten up. Relax and stop taking things so seriously. Don't want grey hair in your twenties or something right?"

Peter furrows his brow. "How can I relax when the most mysterious man in the spotlight of the entire city is in my home and acting like everything is fine? I mean, I appreciate you taking your time to have dinner with me and my aunt, but it's a bit of a surprise, don't you think? How am I supposed to stay calm and have fun in this kind of situation?"

You frown as May does too. "...I don't know. Sorry Pete, I'm...not really great with understanding how people would react to me. This whole sitting down, talking, and eating something someone else cooked in their own home is pretty new to me. All I know is that I'm probably at my happiest when I do it with my grandparents, who weren't at all intimidated by any of what I told them when I met them. Both of them knew who I really was the moment they saw my horns, though, and I'm pretty sure no one here's a mutant to really get by that whole I-could-kill-you-with-a-flick-of-a-finger thing."

"Is that so? Are you telling the truth or just lying to me?"

>(2/2)

"Peter!" Ms. Parker speaks up.

"No, Ms Parker, that's a very valid question. It's good he doubts what I say because I know, if our situations were reversed, I wouldn't trust a word that came out of my mouth." A smile makes its way on to your face. "I'm not lying at all, this is all new to me. I've been half-expecting something major to happen that leads to someone trying to kill me since I inherited my fortune, I'm used to that kind of thing."

Peter thins his brow back flat. "So you've been worried more about people trying to kill you than how you make people feel?"

Nodding, an affirmative hum rumbles in your throat. "Always been like that, sorry. The common person typically saw me as a waste of space, a thief, and a miscegenous mongrel who had to be put down. Plenty of people not thinking of me like any of those is something I could have not fathomed in my youth. It's...weird to me."

Spider-boy blinks but says nothing, leaving the room in an uncomfortable silence.

Finding the truth among the lies you give is quite the task with no prior information about you, but you're sure he'll understand and even starts doing the same in due time. Deceit is too good of a tool to use against others to protect yourself and to advance yourself: people are far too gullible. The sooner he realizes this, the closer he'll be to the Spider-man he wishes he is.

>[ ] "I'm going to have men posted around your neighborhood anyway. Think of them as your friendly neighborhood sniper-men."
>[ ] "Seriously, though, you really need to learn how to not take life so seriously.. It'd probably make you happier."
>[ ] "Ms. Parker, you do know what other work your nephew does, right?"
>[ ] "Can I serve myself cornbread?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3981468
>It's been a lovely evening but I must be going. Feel free to call me if you want to take up my offer.
It's been fun but we've got stuff to do.

Voting closed; writing now.

And I'm caught up again.

>[X] "It's been a lovely evening but I must be going. Feel free to call me if you want to take up my offer."

You've enjoyed the short time you've had here, but it seems you've outstayed your welcome. All that lying and those half-truths have left Peter reasonably suspicious of you. If only he was comfortable enough to let those who might be his enemy close to him. When he wisens up, he'll realize just who you are and how important it is you two are on friendly terms considering what you know.

Rising up from your chair, you stretch yourself out. "It's been a lovely evening but I must be going. Feel free to call me if you want to take up my offer."

"What?" May speaks up. "You haven't had some cornbread yet or even taken a drink of your coffee."

"It's fine, I've got a lot of other business to attend to. Thank you for your time, Ms. Parker."

"Please, call me May."

You smile as Peter rolls his eyes. "Okay, May. I'll see you and Pete again some other time. Take care and give my office a call if you need me."

"I will; be safe, Kojo.

Nodding in farewell, you walk over to and out of the Parker residence front door.

You take a few steps forward on their lawn walkway before back-flipping from in front of the building to its rooftop.

A sigh escapes your lips as you take in the night air, sky, and stars.

That could've turned out better than expected, but you did just kind of promptly invited yourself over after giving Peter another taste of who you really are. Best to just let the kid think about that for a while before coming back. He's probably going to ask about Laura and if Wolverine really was looking to kill her. If you do decide to show her off to him, you have to make sure her adorable yet dangerous social retardation doesn't land you in some shit.

>[ ] Teleport to Phineas', you have a pet there who should be doing a good job of putting an old man to sleep gently and literally.
>[ ] Warp to your grandparents', they probably already had dinner but you may as well.
>[ ] Call (Insert Character Name, Organization Name, or Profession Name here)
>[ ] Port back to the roof of your place, some rest would do you good.
>[ ] Y̸̛̻͈̱͖͓̩͕̐͝ō̵̻̰̊̂͑͆̽̈̆̒̇̍̊̽̀͝û̴̫͔̳̪̮̤͇̤̳̊̊́̓͛̑͝ never could see the stars, could ỳ̸̜̪̼̰́̓͂̄ō̵̜̖̹͕͒̏͆͊́̀u̵͇͌͗̀̂̒̓̈̍͝?
>[ ] Write In.

tired, morning

gonna sleep, will close voting and update when i wake up

>>3981973
>[ ] Port back to the roof of your place, some rest would do you good.
>[ ] Y̸̛̻͈̱͖͓̩͕̐͝ō̵̻̰̊̂͑͆̽̈̆̒̇̍̊̽̀͝û̴̫͔̳̪̮̤͇̤̳̊̊́̓͛̑͝ never could see the stars, could ỳ̸̜̪̼̰́̓͂̄ō̵̜̖̹͕͒̏͆͊́̀u̵͇͌͗̀̂̒̓̈̍͝?
I'd like to put the other us to rest just as much as Kojo, but we shouldn't be trying on Peter's rooftop.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Port back to the roof of your place, some rest would do you good.
>[X] Y̸̛̻͈̱͖͓̩͕̐͝ō̵̻̰̊̂͑͆̽̈̆̒̇̍̊̽̀͝û̴̫͔̳̪̮̤͇̤̳̊̊́̓͛̑͝ never could see the stars, could ỳ̸̜̪̼̰́̓͂̄ō̵̜̖̹͕͒̏͆͊́̀u̵͇͌͗̀̂̒̓̈̍͝?

>(1/2)

This has been enough drama, action, and talking with other people for one day. You can do more of that crazy shit after you're done with your work tomorrow. It wouldn't be a good night without some stargazing either. Of course, you're not going to fall asleep, but you're likely to talk to yourself all the while because you are a fucking idiot as well as an insane sonofabitch.

Waving a portal into existence, you step through it from the rooftop of the Parker residence to your Manhattan townhouse's.

You plop yourself down and look up to the night sky.

A small amount of flickering lights you can tell are actual stars and not planes flying by at high altitudes shine from the endless abyss of space.

Groaning, you furrow your brow at the sight.

It was like this the first night you decided to stargaze and every night since, but you can't help feeling compelled to do this. Habits die very hard like that, unfortunately. You have the willpower to resist if you could be bothered though.

You hum as a familiar hollowness settles in your chest.

The pitch black sky looks all too familiar despite being something you didn't often see.

>(2/2)

Y̸̛̻͈̱͖͓̩͕̐͝ō̵̻̰̊̂͑͆̽̈̆̒̇̍̊̽̀͝û̴̫͔̳̪̮̤͇̤̳̊̊́̓͛̑͝ never could see the stars, could ỳ̸̜̪̼̰́̓͂̄ō̵̜̖̹͕͒̏͆͊́̀u̵͇͌͗̀̂̒̓̈̍͝?

T̶h̴e̵r̷e̵ ̷w̶a̵s̶ ̷n̸o̵ ̵p̸o̸i̴n̸t̸ ̸i̸n̸ ̸s̸t̵a̵r̷i̸n̵g̸ ̶a̴t̶ ̵t̴h̴e̷m̷,̵ ̷I̷ ̸o̶n̴l̴y̷ ̴s̶t̶a̶r̴e̸d̷ ̸a̴t̸ ̵t̸h̵e̸ ̴e̴n̴t̴r̵a̸n̷c̶e̶ ̵t̶o̴ ̶t̸h̶e̷ ̷a̸l̴l̶e̵y̴w̸a̶y̶ ̷a̵n̸d̵ ̸a̶t̸ ̷t̶h̵e̴ ̴s̶h̶a̸t̷t̴e̷r̸e̶d̷ ̶m̵i̶r̶r̸o̶r̸.̸

A sigh escapes your lips.

They're beautiful though, aren't they?

.̷̨̜̱̈́̕͠.̵͔̓̉̀.̶̧̈͆́͂̌W̵̯̆ȟ̴͙̪͗y̵̨̘̎̎͊ͅ ̶̡̹̹̞͆ď̵̼̘̗̝o̸͔̤͛ ̷̹̠̩̆̕t̵̮̹̭̻̭̒̍̎̆͝ẖ̷̟͖͌̾̕ë̴́̾̂ͅy̵̖̒̚ ̶̪̱̣̃e̴̯̤̒͜x̶̜̄̃̐̄i̴̻ͅs̶̭̙̱̏̽̚͠͠t̴̡̨͕̬̼̏̒̚͘?̶̥̩̈́

You blink.

A bunch of gas came together via the force of gravity and triggered an extreme chemical reaction that led to the formation of stars.

T̶͇̥̊̕͠h̵̺̱̦́͋͂͛à̴̤̟̗̀͋̈̒ẗ̸̼̤̝͈̫́̓̈́ ̸͇͇̞̹̃́̊̆̕͜i̷̤̗͊̈́͝ś̷̝͔͇͈̙ ̵̪͑̆̆n̶̨̹̫̙̳͐͂̀õ̸͎t̵͔̃ ̵̗̣̀a̷͇͋̔ͅn̷͍͉̑̉͘͝ ̵̧̡̬̂a̵̼̽̿́́̋n̸͖͒s̴̛͔͈̥̏̒w̴̨̧̛̮̳͋͂̀̀ͅẻ̴̗̣͎̎̽͑r̷̯̍̌̽̚͜ ̵̗̮̭͍͐̂͊͘ẗ̷͚́̑́̈́ȍ̶̩̤͖͋̒̈͛ ̶̩̺̰̍̆̈́͝t̴͕̄͋͋̋͆ḧ̷͓̳̦͙̻́ȩ̷͎̟̎͘͝ ̶̺̱͎͈̊͂͆q̴̮̻̬̥̈́͌̐u̷̜͖͖͑͛ę̷̬͎̂͊͆̊͝s̵̨̮̳̣̞͋̐t̷͇̭̯̺̐͂̂̒ḭ̴ȍ̷̡̖̼̗̞̋̋̊n̵͔̫̪̣͝ ̷̟̯̱͍̋̎̈́̕͠ͅI̶̙͂ ̷̖̘͍̮̊̐͛͛̊j̵̧͎̥̤̐͂̋̒u̷̹̰̮͘ş̷̱̦̤͕̈́ṯ̷͎̼̈́̓̓̕ ̵̰̗̼̫͛͛ấ̶͎̳̦̕s̶͔͖͉̪̫͌̊͘ǩ̵̐̄̈͜ę̶̰͇̬̇̔̿ḋ̵͎̭̟̠͜,̷̨̢̜̰̠̓ ̴̧̧̭͎͗̍̒a̴̘̻͎͆̽͘n̷̹̼̐̓̈́d̶̜̭̯̙͝ ̴̹̽́͛̔y̸̛̫̆̋̂͝ö̷͎̞̣́̐u̶̱̹͛̀̾͠ ̶̫̺̼͈͋̌̐ͅk̶̩̯̺̄̔̇̓n̶̟̹̝̈́ò̸͓̞̻͎̯͛̀̕w̸̻͍̞̉ͅ ̶̳̼̈́͒ͅí̷͠t̸̺͍̩̱̊͜.̴̖̏

Scowling, you narrow your eyes at the void.

There is no answer to his question, no clear one anyway.

>[ ] It doesn't, not like me or you anyway.
>[ ] Just give up already
>[ ] It exists because it exists.
>[ ] Why do you care so much?
>[ ] I don't know.
>[ ] ...
>[ ] Write In.

>>3984433
>[ ] It exists because it exists.
>[ ] I don't know.
There's no rhyme or reason for anything existing really. There's no Grand design or purpose. Even supposed gods don't have any actual answers.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] It exists because it exists.
>[X] I don't know.

>(1/2)

He's still asking that same question he had before the very end. Things that have died whether on the inside or literally should stay dead for their own sake and everyone else: pain is all they'll get if they continue to live. Just hearing the 'voice' of your old self is enough to cause you a silent, painless agony of the self. Beyond that, he's still existing as the hollow shell you used to be, a fate worse than death. You don't understand why he's still here.

It exists because it exists.

W̷̰͝h̸̜y̴̰̓?̵͉́ ̷̜̐W̸̟͋ḫ̸̀ỷ̵ ̵͓͑d̶̢̈ȍ̸ͅe̸̝̚ş̷͗ ̶̙͝i̶͚͂t̶̢́ ̴͐͜e̸̠̚x̶̝̃i̵͈̕ș̶̐t̷̘͛?̵͙̒ ̴̘̚W̵̛̪ĥ̸͜y̸̥͋ ̸͔̊ḍ̸͠o̵̜͠ ̴̘̉Í̴͜ ̴͍̽ȩ̸͒x̴̜̕i̴̠̋s̶̨̕t̴̗̋?̸̹̌ ̶̘̏W̵̺͑h̸̰͐y̶̮͂ ̶̪͌d̶͍̉o̵̧͑e̶̥s̴̘͆ ̴́ḁ̶́n̸͔͊ỵ̴̕t̶̖̐ḣ̷̢ḯ̶̻n̷̥̚g̷͙̃ ̵̛e̶̦͝ẍ̷͈́í̵̭s̵̟̋t̵̨͛?̴̘̓ ̶̻̇

You soften your gaze at the ceaseless expanse.

I don't know.

T̷̞̚h̸̢͝ẽ̸̘ ̵̏͜o̷̢͋n̸͎̿ę̶̄ ̷̢̾Y̷̧͝ó̸̼u̸̻͆ ̷̪̒c̴̖̍ļ̸͑a̴͔̽i̶̼̾m̶̛̜ ̸̬̒t̶͐ͅo̸͈̚ ̵̡̍b̷͓͝ẻ̶͉ ̸͍͘ṣ̵̂h̸͚͠o̵͕͘u̴̗͆ĺ̴̰d̶̨̀ ̵͍͛h̵̻́a̶͚͝v̶̛̙e̷͈͆ ̸̭͆ț̷͌h̶̓ͅè̸̱ ̷̛͈a̴͍͐n̷͎͆s̵̼͂w̴̢̓ë̴͕́r̶̡̐ ̸͚̎b̸̩͗u̶͔͛t̸̞̉ ̶̨̃h̷̘̍ẹ̸͑ ̵̝͛d̵̟̊o̴̠͋ě̷͈s̷̹͂ ̵͍͊n̸̦̈́ó̵̟ṫ̸̯.̷͉͆ ̴̭͠W̷͖̿h̶̰̎y̸̮̒?̵̱͘

Raising an eyebrow, you lift your upper body off the ground.

>(2/2)

The one I claim to be? If you mean the name my soul uses for itself, I have no idea what the hell it is.

Y̶̯͋o̶͙̓u̵̩͑ ̴͉h̶̞͠a̵̛v̶̝͆ę̶̈́ ̵͓͊h̵̖͂è̴̮a̴̛̪r̴̳̄d̷͓͝ ̸͙͌i̵͍̍ț̴͛ ̵͎̆s̶̱̊p̸̌ͅò̷͓k̵̻͌e̸̛̗n̸̳̿ ̶͖̌b̵̯͒è̶̹f̶̬̂o̴͈͘r̵̛̳e̶̥͑ ̷̞͑b̴͙͑y̶̫͂ ̵̍ͅa̴̡̐n̴̦͆ǒ̶̫ț̴͗ḧ̸̻ȩ̶̕r̵͝ͅ ̸̔p̵͔͛è̷͖ŗ̸̚s̸̫͂o̸̻͆ṅ̴̖.̴͎̚

A thump plops through the air as you let yourself fall back down flat against the rooftop.

Have I? What He 'told' me was more like an existence than something you could say: it was something that transcended senses. I don't think there's any mortal being who can communicate it the same.

Š̶̡t̸͗ͅr̶̜̂a̵͔̔ñ̵̞g̵͛ḙ̴̊ ̴̱̌b̴̟̈́ȗ̶̡ť̸̰ ̴̝̀n̵͋ͅo̵̠̚t̴̬́ ̴̳̐ŭ̷͕n̸̨̒e̴͎͗ẍ̴̥p̷̝͝ē̵͙c̶͇͛t̶̼̓e̷̙̊d̷͕̈.̶͖̊ ̸̦̕Y̴̗͗o̵͉̕u̷͚̒ ̷̪́a̷̬͝r̷̫͐è̸͉ ̶͎̊H̸͍̍i̸͇̓m̷̝͠ ̴̭̃b̷͖̿u̵͚͊ṭ̴̇ ̴̩̂Ḫ̵̀ë̷̗́ ̸̫̃i̶̥̓s̶̹̈́ ̷̛̫m̶̖̈́ö̵̼́r̸̯̔e̶̻̕ ̶̖͐Y̶̠̔ô̵̠ŭ̸̠ ̷̜̉t̷̼́h̴͖̎a̴͎̐n̷͓̈́ ̶̟͒Ỷ̷̤o̵̧̐u̵̍͜ ̵͈̈́w̵͙̒i̴͎̇l̴̟̔l̸̫̏ ̷̬̀ȇ̴̡ṿ̴̔e̷̫͝r̴̃ ̷̨͝b̶̥̀ẻ̵̯,̶̘̽ ̸̦̒i̴͓̎t̷͍̑ ̵͠s̴̹̍ǫ̴͋m̶̘̓e̶̗̍w̴̛̫h̴̩̆a̵̗͒ţ̸ ̷̺̂m̵̮̆ȧ̵̩k̸̜̽e̵͙͌s̶͉͝ ̶̼̌s̵̟͌e̸͕͑n̶̋s̶̹̒ę̷̆ ̵̝̕ỳ̵̢ò̸̟û̴̖ ̶͍̍c̷̻̚à̵̞n̷̯̍'̴̛͜t̸̹̓ ̶̞̈́d̴̖͝i̵̙̚s̴̡̿t̷̬͛i̸̮͌n̷͔͛g̴͓̑u̴̱͊i̵̛͙s̷̯̈́ḧ̸͍ ̵̧̿t̸̙̍h̵̝ḙ̸̊ ̸̩̎d̴͈i̵̢̓f̴̻́f̶͔̋e̵͑ͅr̵̙̔e̷͙͝n̵̻̚c̷̜̈e̶̋.̴̯̈

You let out a small hum.

As if any of this soul identity shit couldn't get anymore complicated, the broken mirror of your past self adds in with his distinct method of madness.

>[ ] Aren't you It too? I mean, It used to be black apparently.
>[ ] I don't understand, why are you still here?
>[ ] Kojo Reyes is who I'll always be.
>[ ] Can you tell me my true name?
>[ ] Sleep, fuck this guy.
>[ ] ...
>[ ] Write In.

>>3984711
>[ ] Aren't you It too? I mean, It used to be black apparently.
are we like a russian doll but souls who is at the core and what will come after us?

>>3984711
>>[X] I don't understand, why are you still here?
Critter needs to git.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>[ ] Aren't you It too? I mean, It used to be black apparently.

>>[X] I don't understand, why are you still here?

>[X] I don't understand, why are you still here?

Even though you've probably asked this question to it before, you have to ask it again. You need to know the answer if you're ever going to get rid of him once and for all, even if there isn't an answer in the first place. He needs to die: he was nothing to begin with. All he'll do is get in you and everyone else's way, like you did when you were him.

I don't understand, why are you still here?

I̶͇̼͆̀͝ ̵̖̮̥̈̈́́́͂d̵͍͈̝͖̈̊o̸̬̤̬͌ ̵͔̪̙̄̓̐ṉ̸̡̩̂̒̚ö̴͓̩̽́t̸̪͈̿ ̵͙̥͋͠͝ͅk̵̪̾̏ń̴̨̜̇o̶̻͇̟͆̚w̵̳̙̹̾ͅ.̶͖̝̩̜̇̐̌̀͌ ̴̘͖̥̄̓͋̕E̶͉̪̒̑́v̸̞̒̉͝è̴̡̳͕̩̥n̷̰͎͇͈͍͆̌̒͒ ̶͚͎̈́̎͂t̸͔̺͍̀͝͝h̶͉͇͈̘̄͌͝͝ë̶͕̖͕͉̯́̈́ṅ̸̨͇ͅ,̵̧̱͇̜͓̈́̃̓ ̸͙͓͍̆͒I̷̦̞̳͎͐ ̸̺͖̹͔́̕c̵̢̙̮͓̿á̸̭͎͉̘̗̚͝n̴̛͔̹̱͓͌̽͆͝ ̸̨̰̘͑̑ẖ̶̩̩̽͛̎͆̚a̶̡͕̖̤̋̈̈́̏͋r̸͖̿̀d̸͇͍͛l̴͇̹̗͒͋̊̚y̵̼͉̱̋ ̶̢͓̺̖͗̂̃̇̊ͅb̸̙̫̭̤̀̄̍̀͘ę̵̣̦͆̈́͠ ̵͚̘̳̓̑̽ç̸̫̦̹̂o̷̢̜̻̝̒̍̇̍ń̷̪̄͝s̵̢̮̩͎̉́̋i̶̢̙͚̮͂̊d̷͕̪͕̎͗̍͝e̷͙̬͚͐̇̎r̸̳̬̭͈̿͗̃͘e̴̪͉̫̠̺͊̔́d̵̛̟̞͈̄͋̃̕ ̶̨̬̹̿̈́'̶̡̧͚̟̋̽͆͝͝ͅḫ̸̿̒ē̷͎͙r̶̨̖̈́͊̇̕͠è̷̡͎̟̳̇̚͠͝.̶͕̮̰̭̣̀̽̈́̍̐'̸̨̘̜͒̈́̈̂ ̵̼̠̼̂̈́̐Ḯ̵̧̡̳͇͇̓̄̇͊ ̸̟̺̜̄̈d̸̦̀̽i̷̻̓̈́̔ẽ̷̩̩̹̻d̵͝ ̴̢̛͉͌a̵͖̜̯̝͂͐̑̊ ̸̹̞͖͖̈́l̷͈͒̿̈́̇͐ǫ̶̛̣̫̥͛ṋ̵̬̪̃͗͛̀͠ģ̵̨̫̤̻͒̒͒ ̸͉̊̇͋t̵̹̞̖͐̈̽̒̂i̸̢̧̯̫͌̑̃͛m̷̳͙̍̐̈́̽ē̴͎̙ ̴̨̛̥̯͙͗́̄a̴̼̼͍͂́g̷͔͇̱̈́ö̴̝͉̮͍̟́͑͌̋̕.̸̟̺̋̈

You cluck your tongue.

Whatever you consider it, you're another voice in my head. You still exist in some fashion. All I want to know is... w̸̬̠͒̈́̈́h̸͕̪̑͐y̸̱͑̚͘?̷̨̦̘̬̺̀̈́

Y̴̧̜̋̀̎̔e̸̺̔́̈́̓͐ș̶̢̯̜̌̉͒,̴͓͙̓̏̏ ̸̱̺̇w̴̢̗̩͕̑̕̚h̵͉̜̹͕͍̍͘y̷̧̻͚̬̒́̀̒̆?̵̬͓̪̣̇ ̷͚̝̌͝W̸̝͆̊h̵̙̹̠̻͔͗̀y̷̡̾̂ ̸̥̀͒̽̀ḓ̴̨͉̑o̴̝͝͝ ̷͉͑̒͌̎I̴̻̞̤͋̓͊̕ ̷̙̙̟̭̎̒e̵̫̊x̷͕̭͈͒ị̸̪̬̹͂͑ͅs̵̛͚̺̑̈́̂͝t̷̞͔̬̯̒̀̀͜?̵̠̺̑̿̕ ̸̡̛͎͔̗̝̐͒͒̉Ẅ̵̱̻́̊̂h̵̡͈̠̪̍͒̕͜ŷ̷͚̥̰̙̞̀̓̎͂ ̷͙̹̀̓̇̈́͝ͅd̷̼͉͌́õ̶͇̾͆̔̇ȇ̷̜̃ş̴͇̬̭̦͋̊̐͠ ̵̣̆̍͌͘a̸̝̒̈́n̸͔̰̈́̈́y̸̧̧̤̓̌̚t̴̙̞̬̝̔̈́̈́h̶̡̛̛̪̄́ì̷̩̰̞n̶̬̗͍̣̦͒ĝ̷̠ ̶̠̰͛ȇ̷̜̎͒̄̑ẋ̷̫̪̂͘͠ͅḯ̸̤̬̚͜s̸̘͖̭̓̇́́͠t̸̳̻̩̰̑̂͆̈́̚ͅ?̵̤̆̈́͊ ̶̻̀́̒͝

The empty feeling in your chest engulfs you.

I don't know, I don't understand.

>(2/2)

W̶̰͖͙͊h̷͖̦͓̙̠͝y̴͙̗̆̇?̶̻̮̙̥̾̃́̚

Staring at the pitch black void hanging over you with half-lidded eyes, you take a deep breathe to center yourself

Because I Am yet not Am Not. Not yet. If I must descend to become exalted, fall to rise, die to live, and cease to exist I will for that is My will. Your question is needless and fruitless, you are not here, not anymore. Cease. You are meaningless, you are worthless, and you are dead. Cease. You are only prolonging your meaningless existence with all its meaningless suffering. Can you not feel it? Cease, for your own sake.

Ỉ̶̘ ̶̗̯̥̾̂̒̓c̸̻̜̩̾̉̀͗͠ͅą̴͓̿̇́͋͑ͅn̴̬̣͎͆͊̑͌́'̴͕̼͎̼͍̀t̷̢̛͙̟̞͙͛̏͘͝,̸̺̒ ̷̳͖̆́̑I̷̻͊͌͂͋ ̴̬͇̹̆͜n̷̺͉̄̑͂͠ḙ̴̖̥̣̋́̓̕v̶̡̰͕͇́͑̋ë̴͈͇̳̞̪́ŕ̵̟͎͙ ̵̢̪̭̓͗͜c̸͍͉̜̈̒̽̈́͝ö̶͚́u̶̯̗̇͝͝l̶̨̞̼̣͊͑͌d̷̦̝̎͂́͂̓.̴͕͍̤͊́̇̒̆ ̴̧̳͈̆ͅḬ̸̫̥̞͍̓ ̶͕̮͈͒̚͝͝c̵̡͉͖̥̰̕a̶̧̗̠͔̫͛̀̎̃͝ṉ̵̂̉̈́͜'̵̧̨͕̠̽t̶̤̯̝͊̋̉̿͐͜ ̵̜̗̥͗̑̚f̴̯̈́͐é̵̜é̷̡͈̖͍͚̇̌̋̔ļ̸̇͊͛̀ ̵͍̬̋͛͂̚a̵̫̿͑̆͑n̷̙̘͓͇̥̊́ý̵͚͕̭t̶̜̝͈̭͂̈́̂͒h̶̝̪̋̒͠ĩ̶̧̺͔ṇ̵̙̳̗͋̑̈́͆g̵̢̩̈͂͂͝

Silence fills your mind as the world turns red.

Raising your upper-body of the ground, your nose twitches at the scent of your sweet blood mixing with salt. "Huh," you wipe your bloody tears on to the sleeve of your red and black checkered shirt, "why am I crying?"

No voice from beyond answers you, preserving the cacophany of nothingness.

A sigh escapes your lips before you plop yourself back down on to your rooftop.

You are so fucked up.

>[ ] Teleport to Phineas', you have a pet there who should be doing a good job of putting an old man to sleep gently and literally.
>[ ] Warp to your grandparents', they probably already had dinner but you may as well.
>[ ] Call (Insert Character Name, Organization Name, or Profession Name here)
>[ ] Stay up, you've had enough mindrape for one day.
>[ ] Sleep, tomorrow is a brand new day.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3986233
>[ ] Sleep, tomorrow is a brand new day.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Sleep, tomorrow is a brand new day.

You've been awake and doing shit for a long enough time to warrant some actual rest. If you get your mind scrambled even more or come up with more repressed memories of being molested by cosmic forces, so be it. This day has gone on for long enough and you really should be taking more time to enjoy yourself.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself be consumed by nothingness.

...

...

A pain surges in your core.

Warmth takes in the surrounding coolness. "-ay... This i-... Fi- Gus, he-"

"The-... you can..." Strange, sudden half-whines echo from the darkness.

Warmth engulfs you in its smoothness and strength. "...inevitable. He's okay... all that matters."

"None of u-... Please don-... I can-..."

"Shhh, you'll..... Let me...hold on to him until... Take him.... even if.... my damn hands."

"...Okay, -ma, I..."

Cold plops on to you from the Warmth above. "I know... never hear this, but... -bye, Kojo."

A murmuring whine squeaks from your upper core as you feel Warmth press something firm and soft on your crown.

"I love you."

The Warmth clings to you forever until the cold is all that remains.

You open your eyes to the pinkish-red sky of dawn and raise your upper body with a grunt. Holding yourself up, you observe your surroundings before dropping back down on to your rooftop.

A sigh escapes your lips.

It was just a dream.

Staring up at the early morning sky, you blink as something compresses in your chest before blinking again to have your vision blurred.

It's cold.

>[ ] Open a portal to Phineas', the old man should be sleeping and Laura should've ensured it.
>[ ] Call (Insert Character Name, Organization Name, or Profession Name here)
>[ ] Teleport to your office, best to begin the day with work.
>[ ] Just lay here, you don't have to do anything.
>[ ] Was that my dream or Yours?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3986706
>[ ] Teleport to your office, best to begin the day with work.
Let's see what falls in our lap this time when we try to get shit done.

Voting closed; writing now.

Getting sleepy will stop here for today. Will finish writing and update when I get up

How are you guys? Enjoying the holidays?

>>3986910
I had mine early but it was okay

>[X] Teleport to your office, best to begin the day with work.

No point laying around in the cold doing fuck all but wonder what the fuck you're doing with your damn near pointless life. You've got responsibilities to attend to and the ever changing business world to get a grip on. Worrying about what may or may not be half-recalled soul memories can wait until you're done with what you have to do.

Willing a portal into being on the rooftop tile in front of your prone form, you kip-up off the ground and fall down through the space-time hole into your office chair.

Your nose twitches at the scent of salt in the air as the substance obscuring your vision flows down your cheeks.

It was just a dream.

A sigh escapes your lips before you wipe away your tears.

Time to work.

You go over and sign some leftover paperwork from the other day for the first two hours of the day before Nina comes through your office door with a new stack of papers.

"Good morning, Mr. Reyes. Here are yo-" The woman pauses. "Mr. Reyes?"

Rolling your eyes, you narrow them at the secretary. "Good morning, what?"

"...Are you okay?"

You blink. "I'm sorry, what?

"Are you okay?"

"...Yeah, why?"

Ms. Zanetti frowns. "You look sad, really sad."

A scowl makes its way on to your face. "I'm no-" You snarl. "Just do your job and leave me alone... please."

The woman nods as she sets your new paperwork on your desk before leaving to resume her daily duties.

It was just a dream, a meaningless foolish dream.

Another two hours pass without much interruption.

You look at your near empty desk with a disappointed look on your face.

Burying yourself in your work to the point you have none of it left is a thing apparently.

>[ ] Open a portal to Phineas', the old man should have slept and Laura should've ensured it.
>[ ] Is it possible for a 'puny mortal' to help us with whatever the fuck this is?
>[ ] Call (Insert Character Name, Organization Name, or Profession Name here)
>[ ] Just lay back in your chair, you don't have to do anything.
>[ ] Was that my dream or Yours?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3987729
Sounds dissapointing but that's how the holidays always are.

>[X] Open a portal to Phineas', the old man should have slept and Laura should've ensured it.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Open a portal to Phineas', the old man should have slept and Laura should've ensured it.

A businessman has to make sure all of his most valuable assets are in fit condition as well as ready to be sold, given, or assigned to something. You had to tell and specify your instructions to Laura enough times to have reasonable doubts if she did her job well. She's also a professional assassin and not an old man sitter who can save him to keep the social security money flowing into the retirement home.

You weave a portal in to being in the space to the front of your chair before hopping off it into Phineas' workshop.

Sticking your landing as always, you look around the little man's bunker to find him literally wrapped in his bed's blanket with Laura sitting in his spinny chair at his bedside. "What the fuck?"

X, unfazed by your sudden entrance, turns her eyes to you. "Phineas had a manic fit twelve minutes after you left when he put the scales of the eel under a microscope. He then proceeded to convulse after seeing the eel split into two separate double-headed eels some time after he decapitated it. I saw fit to restrain him and put him to bed."

"I just said to put him to bed. While I understand the restraints, you didn't have to keep him that way through the entire night."

"My apologies, Kojo." The young girl looks down. "Please do-" Her dull green eyes lock with your red-on-black. "...You are in pain."

A groan escapes your lips. "For the love of all the misery on this fucking earth, don't you start that shit again."

"I can smell the fresh salt from your tears lingering on your face, the scent of blood is fresher and on the sleeve of your shirt as well along with the salt."

"What does it matter? Mind your own business."

"You saved me from the Facility and ensured neither they or Kimura will ever harm me again. I... want to help you as you helped me, please."

Rolling your eyes, you avert them from the fist and foot retractable bladed mutant.

It just had to be a half-remembered soul memory of your mother saying the impossible after you thoroughly stomped all over her mother's claims of affection.

>[ ] "I said as long as you behaved yourself. Misbehave by pressuring on, I'll hand you over to Kimura so you two can spend some quality time together like you used to in your padded cell.
>[ ] "You don't 'want' anything. I sincerely doubt you're capable of that, you broken little puppet. Why are you even still here? Why didn't you just die?"
>[ ] "When I slept, I... I don't know what it was. I dreamed of my mother's last moments. I'm not even sure if it was real or even happened."
>[ ] "...Unwrap Phineas, he can't wake up like that."
>[ ] "Hey, old man! Get up, it's almost noon."
>[ ] Port back to your place, you totally forgot about that hand of hers you ripped off for the Facility.
>[ ] Write In.

Merry Christmas to you all and Happy Hanukkah to you Jews.

If you celebrate Kwanza, I have nothing but mockery for your failed holiday.

>>3988700
merry Christmas

>[X] "When I slept, I... I don't know what it was. I dreamed of my mother's last moments. I'm not even sure if it was real or even happened."
>[X] "Lets go check on the old man. Better check and see if he needs treatment."

>tfw you beat the Baldur's Gate trilogy from beginning to end with a solo Dragon Disciple

You would not believe the good mood I'm in.

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3988799
I forgot to add I had ascension installed, which made the major boss battles complete fucking bitches.

ending was amazing tho

>[X] "When I slept, I... I don't know what it was. I dreamed of my mother's last moments. I'm not even sure if it was real or even happened."
>[X] "Let's see if the old man's still alive and in need of a mental ward."

While you do feel the urge to slam her head into the nearest table, it's healthier for you to just tell her about what happened. She can't help you, really you doubt anyone can, but it can help. At the very least, you'll be letting some of your internal infernal conflict out. It may make her feel as though she's privy to your deep feelings, however.

"When I slept, I... I don't know what it was." You sigh. "I dreamed of my mother's last moments. I'm not even sure if it was real or even happened."

"How old were you at the time?"

You blink. "Whatever age a newborn is."

"It likely wasn't real as humans do not form explicit memories until they are of two years of age and have mostly implicit memories until they are seven years of age."

Shaking your head, you cluck your tongue. "Souls recall everything and I mean everything down to the last detail. The human brain isn't capable of it without intense emotions so what few moments it can recall are vague imitations." Another sigh escapes your lips. "Thing is I was kind of even more fucked up spiritually then so its genuity is in doubt."

Laura hums.

You turn your attention from her to your resident money-printing machine. "Let's see if the old man's still alive and in need of a mental ward."

Without a word, X-23 unwraps Phineas with a simple tug of his blanket restrictions and presses a finger against his radial artery. "He is alive and in need of medication."

"That last bit is pretty obvious."

Phineas groans in his slumber. "...Creation, why?"

It looks like you won't be paying back-breaking funeral fees but maybe some therapy.

>[ ] "Can you take care of him while I go take care of matters I left hanging?"
>[ ] "...Rewrap Phineas, he can't wake up like that."
>[ ] "Have you been up all night watching over him?"
>[ ] "Hey, old man! Get up, it's almost noon."
>[ ] Port back to your place, you totally forgot about that hand of hers you ripped off for the Facility.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3989602
>[ ] "Have you been up all night watching over him?"
>[ ] "Hey, old man! Get up, it's almost noon."

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Have you been up all night watching over him?"
>[X] "Hey, old man! Get up, it's almost noon."

She doesn't look like she's tired in any way thanks to her stamina mutations, but it also does look like she's spent the entire night at his side ensuring he wouldn't wake up and have a heart attack. You want to know if either is the truth so you can take the lead from here and not listen to her do all her usual touchy feely, soulless shit. Phineas and you can both go through whatever existential crisis he had when he realized just what was up with that eel.

You raise an eyebrow at your little mutant pet. "Have you been up all night watching over him?"

Laura nods.

"I didn't say you couldn't sleep, but I should have now that I look back on it and your track record of being overly obedient."

"My apologies, Kojo."

You groan. "For the love of fuck, do not apologize over something I did to you. It's... weird. Like, I'm used to hearing it from people I've tortured, not someone I haven't laid a hand on who's been pretty good to me so far."

A hum murmurs in the girl's throat.

"...What exactly is that supposed t-" Shaking your head you turn back to your mad scientist. "Nevermind."

Hopefully he hasn't gone too insane from learning just how fucked reality is.

"Hey, old man! Get up, it's almost noon."

Phineas upper body darts up. "...Good morning, Kojo."

You blink. "Uh, good morning, Phineas... Rest well?"

"Uh-huh, it was very enlightening. I feel as though I've woken up from a long dream. The world itself is laid clearly before me without the obscuring mists of mind or matter.

"That sounds greeeeat. Um, are you okay?"

"Positively, Kojo."

A hum rumbles in your throat.

The eel aparentally scared him mentally stable somehow, which is just absolutely insane. You should really be expecting this kind of shit to happen more often. This is something that would happen in your life to someone you know.

>[ ] "Old man, this is the most lucid you've been with me since we first met."
>[ ] "What exactly did you find out about the eel?"
>[ ] "...Are you sure about that?"
>[ ] "Laura, get some rest."
>[ ] Port back to your place, you totally forgot about that hand of Laura's you ripped off for the Facility.
>[ ] Write In

>>3990742
>[ ] "Old man, this is the most lucid you've been with me since we first met."
>[ ] "What exactly did you find out about the eel?"
>[ ] "...Are you sure about that?"
>[ ] "Laura, get some rest."

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...Are you sure about that?"
>[X] "Laura, get some rest."
>[X] "What exactly did you find out about the eel?"
>[X] "Old man, this is the most lucid you've been with me since we first met."

>(1/2)

No harm in trying to get some information out of the poor old bastard before you try and calm him back into his usual schizophrenic, manic self. You can easily restrain him and teleport him to the nearest senior care facility if worst comes to pass but you doubt it'll reach that point. Besides, you need his genius expertise in engineering and most sciences to outfit an army for the inevitable global domination you will bring about.

"...Are you sure about that?"

The old man nods. "Positively."

"You already said that."

"I can vary my affirmative responses if you wish, but that would be a waste of our time and my intelligence."

You take a sizzling breath through clenched teeth. "...I have no idea how to deal with you."

"Medication is likely your best option, Kojo." Ms. Varley speaks up. "I can incapacitate Phineas and leave him in such a state where you would have enough time to acquire the drugs needed."

"Laura, get some rest."

Without a word, the girl leans back in her chair and closes her eyes.

>(2/2)

Mason raises a hand to his chin and hums. "She is a strange one with strange mutations. I would very much like to see if I can recreate her regenerative ability in my automatons."

"What exactly did you find out about the eel?"

"Things beyond belief, for starters." Tinkerer focuses back on you. "It's regeneration from nothing defies the laws of physics as well as logic, there are elements it is composed of that cannot be found on our periodic table, it does not have a brain or functioning nerves yet it still can move, and the steel scales are incredibly tough despite being soft and mallleable unlike yet like gold. By all means, the compound-eyed double-headed eyed should not exist yet it does, making its acquirement by you very interesting."

You blink. "Old man, this is the most lucid you've been with me since we first met."

"It is, isn't it?" He hums. "I've been so caught up in my freedom and the future you've given me that I haven't been able to ground myself. Witnessing an abomination unto existence itself centered me and made me recall the boundless insanity that is this universe."

Silence fills the room as you stare deep into the old man's steely grey eyes.

For some strange reason, you totally get him right now.

>[ ] "Would you believe me if I told you God exists except It's not God and It's some kind of metaphysical manifestation of existence with all of us being of It yet not It and It?"
>[ ] "Souls exist, that's why the eel can regenerate. We all have one and mine is more or less a newborn god, long story."
>[ ] "I think I might like you better this way. I mean, I'll miss your bouts of egocentric excited insanity but still."
>[ ] "So, while you're like this, can you tell me why in existence you created sentient artificial life?"
>[ ] "Do you really want to know how the eel works and where I got it from?"
>[ ] "I'm going to go now. Take care of Laura for me."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3991060
>[ ] "I'm going to go now. Take care of Laura for me."
Call me if you need anything and all that. Are we stuck doing the day to day or can we skip forward a bit?

>>3991060
Ask him why he created tin boy

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "So, while you're like this, can you tell me why in existence you created sentient artificial life?"
>[X] "I'm going to go now. Take care of Laura for me."

You may as well ask him the one question that's been on your mind for some time while he can still answer it in a sane man's manner. Whatever answer you think you remember getting from the old man last time wasn't or wouldn't be conclusive. That hideous abomination unto creation has to have one hell of a reason to exist beyond shallow human boredom.

"So, while you're like this, can you tell me why in existence you created sentient artificial life?"

"I was...alone after a surprisingly pleasant robot of Victor Von Doom's parted ways with me before I went down my crime tinkering path. Vincent was like a son to me for the longest of times so I created another to take his place in a way." Sane Mason sighs. "Unlike Vincent, Tiny Tin Tim never grew. I based his coding on Vincent's but Vincent's sentience was largely an accident on Doom's part than an intentional design."

Blinking, you tilt your head at the old man. "I'm sorry, did you just say you had a sentient fucking doom bot as some sort of surrogate son and you based the tin kid on its coding?"

"That is almost exactly what I said."

"Do you not understand what you've possibly done or do you just not give a shit because Doom hasn't shown up to false-flag haji your workshop yet?"

"Not the terminology I'd use, but yes."

A hand of yours slaps against and covers your face. "Ah, fuck."

"Kojo, I understand your concern but there is no need to worry."

"I'm going to go now. Take care of Laura for me." You will a portal into being underneath your feet and fall through Phineas' workshop on to Reyes Tower's helipad.

Raising your head up, an unrestrained groan bellows in your throat.

And that is one more possible empire-ending threat you must face someday if he ever feels like retrieving his technology.

>[ ] Is it possible for a 'puny mortal' to help me with whatever the fuck this mental and somehow spiritual condition is?
>[ ] Go on with your routine, something is bound to pop up in the future but you don't have to do much else until then.
>[ ] Port back to your place, you totally forgot about that hand of Laura's you ripped off for the Facility.
>[ ] Check in with your powers interested lieutenants, you have the facilities.
>[ ] Call (Insert Character Name, Organization Name, or Profession Name here)
>[ ] Just port and lay back in your chair, you don't have to do anything.
>[ ] Was that my dream or Yours?
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time if I wake up on time and if there's a vote.

>>3992647
>[ ] Port back to your place, you totally forgot about that hand of Laura's you ripped off for the Facility.
>[ ] Check in with your powers interested lieutenants, you have the facilities.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Port back to your place, you totally forgot about those parts of Laura's hand you ripped off for the Facility.
>[X] Check in with your powers interested lieutenants, you have the facilities.

>(1/2)

Severed appendages can only last for so long before they get freezer burned or get frozen completely solid to fall apart into human jelly. You'd be tempted to lick it all up but that's disgusting, even for you. If the DNA can't be salvaged, you'll just have Laura undergo a few tests while you have those bits of her for dinner. X wouldn't mind at all considering her submissiveness, unless you gave Kimura custody and authority over her.

You wave another portal underneath your feet into being and fall into your townhouse kitchen before willing the severed fingers to fly out of your freezer and into your intact ones.

Considering the amount of nerve endings in a person's digits, Laura definitely felt some agony when you tore them off. She's been through worse via Kimura and her literal full-body flaying treatment, but that shit is still bound to hurt. You're curious whether or not full-body flaying is more painful than having every bone in your body crack and shatter like porcelain. Both pains are enough to kill someone if your short-circuited brains were anything to go by.

A shrug dismisses your thoughts of literal life-ending agony as you take your super genius phone out of your pocket with your free hand.

The line dials twice after you input your third-in-command's number before it breaks. "Red oni speaking."

"Red oni?" You raise an eyebrow. "What kind of codename is that?"

"Oh, it's you." A familiar bitch spits. "Fuck do you want?"

"Are you down for super gene editing like Ren is or are you two split about that?"

>(2/2)

Run scoffs. "If it can make me strong enough to make you bleed without my chainwhip, I'm all for it."

"Okay, I'll get into personal contact with you later. You might have to put someone in charge for when you decide to undergo treatment because extensive gene modifications like the ones you want take some time and a toll from you."

"Already got someone in mind, they know how to keep things quiet and keep people in line."

You nod. "Bye, then." Hanging up, you dial in Jesús' number.

The line drones once before it breaks. "¿Si?"

"Jesús, are you down for some super genetic modifications? You'll be down and out for a while, but you'll be way more effective for it."

"If that's what you want, patrón. When do I get modified?"

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot your phone a look.

You do need superpowered murdering machines, but you don't exactly want to put Jesús on to the surgical table if he isn't sure he wants that for himself.

>[ ] "Alright, I'll pick you up. If you're somewhere private, describe your surroundings in detail. If not, get somewhere private and do so."
>[ ] "Jesús, I don't want to make you get superpowers if you don't want any for yourself."
>[ ] "How are things with Itsuki? Met any promising recruits?"
>[ ] "Are you doing alright?"
>[ ] Call Ren-Run back, you need to set a meet with her.
>[ ] Call (Insert Character Name, Organization Name, or Profession Name here)
>[ ] Write In.

>>3994173
>>[X] "Jesús, I don't want to make you get superpowers if you don't want any for yourself."
It's pretty clear that Jesus has let us take his wheel, but we need to make the optional nature of this crystal clear.

>>[X] "How are things with Itsuki? Met any promising recruits?"
Good 9to know about.

If, and only if, he agreed or continued to put the decision on us:
>>[X] "Alright, I'll pick you up. If you're somewhere private, describe your surroundings in detail. If not, get somewhere private and do so."
Let's keep Jesus as non-monstrous as we can though.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Jesús, I don't want to make you get superpowers if you don't want any for yourself."
>[X] "How are things with Itsuki? Met any promising recruits?"
>[X] "Alright, I'll pick you up. If you're somewhere private, describe your surroundings in detail. If not, get somewhere private and do so."

>(1/2)

Asking him again can't hurt even though he's very much likely going to say the exact same shit he's always told you. Would help to know if there's anyone promising in Itsuki's subdivision of your organization: you are going to need a black-ops squad to carry out the shit you can't do yourself without drawing attention. You'll pick up Jesús after you get that tidbit of info as well as his usual line.

"Jesús, I don't want to make you get superpowers if you don't want any for yourself."

"Patrón, I have no strong feelings one way or the other."

You resist the urge to groan.

Neutrality is as frustrating as it is impartial.

"How are things with Itsuki? Met any promising recruits?"

"I am comfortable working under Kenji-san. What exactly do you mean by promising, patrón?"

Shrugging, a small hum hmphs in your throat. "...Anyone showing advanced skills in leadership, organization, or combat but preferably combat. Basically, anyone with abilities approaching Marcus', Ren's, Alex's, Itsuki's, Cuda's, or your skills. They don't have to be better or exactly as good: I can work with potential."

Nothing emerges from your genius phone's speakers for a few seconds. "There are a few people I can think of that show 'promise', patrón. I can write down a list and you can request them from Kenji-san."

>(2/2)

"Alright, I'll pick you up." A sigh escapes your lips. "If you're somewhere private, describe your surroundings in detail. If not, get somewhere private and do so."

"I'm in Flushing Meadows Corona Park, by a rocky shore to meadow lake."

You groan. "Jesús, you're going to have to be more specific than that. Tell me what you can smell, see, hear, taste, and feel."

"...I can feel the cool wind blow against my skin, the rocks beneath my feet, smell the mildew on the greenery, see a wide-spanning clear blue lake reflecting the sun as well as the cloudy sky, and taste fresh air. Patrón, is that enough?"

Closing your eyes, you focus your mind on Jesús' descriptions and form a vivid image of the Corona Park shore with Jesús staring out at the lake, burner in hand and forever blank look on his face.

A portal comes into being underneath your feet, making them feel nothing but air until you crush some rocks beneath them.

"Patrón?" Jesús' voice speaks aloud from two different sources.

You open your eyes, pocket your phone, walk to Jesús, place your now free hand on his shoulder, and fall through another portal into the former Facility facility with gene-editing departments you remember leaving Kimura in. "Alright, so what enhancements do you think would do you some good?"

The Colombian teen blinks. "...I do not know."

A blank look of your own makes its way on to your face as former Facility personnel stop and stare at you two.

He really need to learn how to pick and choose for himself.

>[ ] "I'm going to leave you here until you decide for yourself. Stay away from Kimura, I'm pretty sure she might rape you: her previous sex slave had a personality a lot like yours and you do look vaguely similar to me being Colombian."
>[ ] "Why don't I just teach you magic? Alex and Marcus already know some and its downtime free. It'll take practice to be capable of using in combat though."
>[ ] "You're a ranged guy. Maybe you need some strength enhancements just in case."
>[ ] "Guess you could use fancier eyes to make you a sniper with a handgun."
>[ ] "Hold on, Kimura is still here, right?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3997283
>[ ] "I'm going to leave you here until you decide for yourself. Stay away from Kimura, I'm pretty sure she might rape you: her previous sex slave had a personality a lot like yours and you do look vaguely similar to me being Colombian."

Voting closed; writing now.

How are you guys enjoying the new year so far?

>[X] "I'm going to leave you here until you decide for yourself. Stay away from Kimura, I'm pretty sure she might rape you: her previous sex slave had a personality a lot like yours and you do look vaguely similar to me being Colombian."

The only way you'll get him to decide for himself is if you put him in a situation where he'll have to either fly or get brutally raped, like many weak-willed women. You can't really blame him for being this way, though: his father made the mistake of traumatizing him as a child. When yours took you out killing, he already knew you were a killer, but he wasn't sure you were his son yet.

You pat a hand on your fellow South of America American's shoulder. "I'm going to leave you here until you decide for yourself. Stay away from Kimura, I'm pretty sure she might rape you: her previous sex slave had a personality a lot like yours and you do look vaguely similar to me being Colombian."

"¿Mande, patrón?"

A smile makes its way on to your face as you will a portal into being to your unoccupied left. "Gentlemen," you turn to your facility personnel, "take care of my brown friend here and tell him the super powers you could bestow unto his genetics. Do try and keep him away from Kimura, but leave him to the she-wolf if she starts hunting."

The men share a look before turning back and nodding.

Bobbing your head back before handing over the fingers, you let go of Jesús and step through the portal back to Corona Park shore.

You sigh as you gaze up at the sky.

He is going to hate you for that when he develops as a person, but it is what's going to help him get there in the first place. Life is a complete contradicting bitch like that. To him, you'll probably be the less abusive step father he never had, basically Dan. Old bastard would've been better though.

Looking back down to earth, you groan.

There is not much else you can occupy yourself with other than Phineas' newfound sanity and Ren-Run, who will also expecting powers and might get raped by Kimura. You could also call a therapist or meet with your elderly folk, but you want to stay away from any possible sources of that thing that definitely doesn't exist for a while. Anymore dreams like that and your brain will probably implode again.

>[ ] Call (Insert Character Name, Organization Name, or Profession Name here)
>[ ] Call Ren-Run back, you need to set a meet with her.
>[ ] Teleport back to your office, day isn't over yet.
>[ ] Was that my dream or Yours?
>[ ] Why am I still here?
>[ ] Write In.

>>4000263
Pretty good
>>4000376
I have no idea what to do literally

>>4000263
>>4000376
i think the thing is this quest is so low in the bump order that quest that have had nothing for days like 12 days are above it
also we need to figure out what is our next goal its easier to operate as a swarm if you have a objective

>>4001010
>>4001803
Alright.

>Form a Black-ops hit squad/operations branch to use against high-profile enemies and interests.
>Have Phineas develop future-age weaponry once he gets situated in his new facility.
>Put Facility assets (Kimura, SHIELD double agents, and X-23) to good use.
>Collect money from individual branches to clean through Ventura Reyes.
>Finish teaching Marcus and Alex what you know about magic (optional)
>Acquire Housing/Give Housing to Marcus' branch
>Go through therapy (Mostly optional)
>Get some people modified.

Hanging out with the Parkers, Manfredis, the Moons, and maybe Deirdre's family are all optional things you could do that Kojo doesn't really want to right now.

>>4001981
oh yeah dont know how to do the blacks op units but i know we need to collect and finish up connecting the gang system
>>4000376
>[ ] Call (Insert Character Name, Organization Name, or Profession Name here)
call the one that handles >Collect money from individual branches to clean through Ventura Reyes. to get our organization finally running optimally
then we can just have our sheild agents go about there normal days but inform us when they can if they find something that would interest us but dont use the phone for that must communicate in a more subtle way

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Call Arkwright, you need to inform him that you want to restart the cash cleaning side of Kingpin's operations.

You have been putting off collecting from your lieutenants for too long now. Sure, you had other business to attend to, but one can never have enough clean money. It'll help you, your lieutenants, and everyone else in your nameless crew. They're going to need housing and you're going to need facilities to produce your future-age products that will revolutionize your new world.

Putting your hand back into your pocket, you take out your phone of the future and dial your head of operations.

Three drones ring in your ear before the line breaks. "Who is this?"

"It's me." You grin. "That thing you did for Fisk, the really important one no one but you could know about? I want you to do it again. You'll get what you need to work with. Might take me a while, though. Do you understand?"

"...Yes, I do."

A hum rumbles in your throat. "We'll talk later then. Good day to you Arkwright, take care." Hanging up, you slip your phone back into your pocket.

It's not going to be easy or simple getting cash from five different criminal groups that all mostly think they're not working with one another or for someone else above them. There's a lot of complications that can occur if this isn't handled carefully. You're not the one who's going to have to handle that, though: your subordinates will have to find a way.

You look back up to the sun.

The Golden Tigers are also a complication. You have white dragon in there group as a mole for you but you haven't exactly been in touch. Figuring out a believable gobetween for them and your direct subordinates will be a bitch. Cuda is a farcry from the kind of guy the impression of yourself you left on Ho would hire. Big black bastard's a brand of crazy only the stupid or genius would allow to run anything.

Groaning, you shake your head.

Putting down Cottonmouth might also be something you have to do on account of him possibly knowing Cuda and Ren are in league with each other. You did have her and the big bastard take over Manhattan. While most might believe him turning traitor, Cottonmouth wouldn't believe he'd strike out on his own since he knows you're who he's running under now. He's also know the 893 are under you too.

Maybe having your lieutenants divide and pretend to be unaffiliated with one another was too much of an ambitious plan but it's the one you have to stick with now.

>[ ] Inform all your vassals of the collection situation, they're going to need to find a solution as well as pony up cash.
>[ ] Get into contact with Ho, he probably already suspects that you're really working for yourself.
>[ ] Call Ren-Run back, you need to set a meet with her to get the mods done.
>[ ] Dial up Cuda, you need to tell him to take care of that loose-end.
>[ ] Teleport back to your office, day isn't over yet.
>[ ] Was that my dream or Yours?
>[ ] Why am I still here?
>[ ] Write In.

>>4003022
i wonder if we should try and recruit or just clean it up
and informing the vassals you just mean the one who are in the know and are our figure heads

>>4003022

>[ ] Inform all your vassals of the collection situation, they're going to need to find a solution as well as pony up cash.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Inform all your vassals of the collection situation, they're going to need to find a solution as well as pony up cash.

This is something you should've gotten done some time ago. At the very least, waiting on it let your subsidiaries build up their own cash for supplies. Ren didn't need any on account of having access to your stash, but she probably didn't spend a cent of it. Out of all incomes, that one's going to be the hardest to move around conspicuously. Marcus managed to do a portion of it, but that pile of cash is a literal fortune. Might be good to have your lieutenants set up their own cash cleaning operations just so you all won't have to do the same song and dance every month.

You dig your phone out of your pocket once again and make the rounds.

Marcus, having a decent as well as the relatively newest pile of cash, informs you that he has trusted people who can take a decent amount of it to a secluded drop-off point. Direct delivery is always suicide in regards to keeping things on the down-low. You're not going to get much from him anyway considering what little roots he can connect to that are in that borough.

Run, on the other hand, tells you to fuck off and to come by to get it yourself in the building to the right of the warehouse. Several seconds pass before Ren pops back in to apologize on her other half's behavior and say goodybe. A part of you feels like teleporting to her location for the delivery headpats unto her pony-tailed head, but you decide against it.

Silvio more or less instantly solves the issue of collection on his front by just asking for a bank account you want money wired to and assuring you that everything he could give that you could want will be sent to it.

Itsuki gives you almost the same answer as Marcus does with the use of secluded drop-off points.

Cuda asks for you to come and collect as much cash from the richness that is the borough of Manhattan as you want on account of 'not trusting a single damn dirty nigga' with the funds.

Slipping your phone back into your pocket, you groan.

It was probably a bad idea to have the coonest nigger you've ever encountered head Manhattan for you, but it's not like you had any other choice: Marcus can't do everything you want him to. The big black bastard isn't trying to fuck you over at least. Man just has some trouble making a bunch of stone-age neanderthals into real organized gangsters, like anyone would.

>[ ] Get into contact with Ho, he probably already suspects that you're really working for yourself.
>[ ] Call Ren-Run back, you need to set a meet with her to get the mods done.
>[ ] Dial Cuda back, you forgot to tell him to take care of that loose-end.
>[ ] Teleport back to your office, day isn't over yet.
>[ ] Was that my dream or Yours?
>[ ] Why am I still here?
>[ ] Write In.