>(2/2)

He's remarkably kind and awkward when he's not working on anything while being absolutely crazy when he is. It could be another quirk to his personality or how he was before being the maker of all the bad guys' weapons. Either way, it's unnerving you.

"...I'm going to go now; I'll keep in touch. You do you."

Phineas and his tin man wave as you walk to the staircase.

"Take care, Mr. Reyes!"

You wave back before hopping up to the basement door, opening it, and walking through it into the shop front.

Strolling past the displays, you open the front door and shut it behind you.

A groan escapes your lips as you take in the night air.

What do you think about Phineas here? He saved you and I after I fucked up, not to mention his competence.

The Mechanist is a valuable servant to you and I. He will armor and equip you and I's followers with the weapons and tools to cement you and I's superiority upon you and I's enemies. Unfortunately, his vessel is nearing its end. Let me consume him before his time comes or someone apprentice under him so you and I do not lose his expertise.

You blink.

Phineas is too valuable to lose just yet but eating his soul is a super fucked up way to accomplish that. Getting him an apprentice will take time but it'd lack making the man cease to exist.

>[ ] What could possibly cloud you? Aren't you protected by me and this body on top of being a soul eater?
>[ ] Servants, followers, The Mechanist, and The Old King: what are any of them to you?
>[ ] That's a bit too much don't you think? Eating his soul?
>[ ] Test out Tombstone's contact number, he could prove useful.
>[ ] Call Cottonmouth, Diamondback knew all his cell numbers.
>[ ] Hop back to the warehouse, you're done here.
>[ ] Write In.

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

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

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

>>3226710
>what could cloud you?
>isn’t that a bit much?
>we could see about getting him an apprentice
Man, this is weird it’s a bit like running around with a symbiote already
Wait, can we get powers by eating others souls?

>>3226712
Holy shit, it’s 2004. I have no idea about the significance of that

>>3226917
Finally, someone fucking got it. I've made so much effort to keep everything mentioned in story related to that year.

There's a lot of things that happened in 2004 marvel.

>>3226927
Oh shit, Is there

>>3226710
this >>3226912

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3226927
I have no idea what happens in 2004. The kidnapping of tony stark? Chitauri invasion? Something else?

>[X] What could possibly cloud you? Aren't you protected by me and this body on top of being a soul eater?
>[X] That's a bit too much don't you think? Eating his soul?
>[X] We could see about getting him an apprentice.

You have no idea what could make your soul that way but it might have an idea. A lot of the cosmic stuff is somewhat confusing to you and the other you is one of those cosmic beings. The only problem would be if the interference wasn't cosmic or spiritual in nature.

What could possibly cloud you? Aren't you protected by me and this body on top of being a soul eater?

Yes, I am. Only you and I could possibly do so. Knowing myself, I blame you or some dormant side of you, little Mind. You have not been particularly well for as long as you have been.

Once again, you blink.

I sure as hell wouldn't have done that knowingly or ever. Dormant? Like Ren's split personality of her sister or vice versa?

The Bound One's insanity is similar, yes. A brand different than what a psychologist would subscribe to you and I but an insanity you suffer from nonetheless. The Mechanist could possibly be insane as well. Hopefully, you and I won't contract his madness once devouring him.

You cluck your tongue.

That's a bit too much don't you think? Eating his soul?

It would be expedient and give you and I vast knowledge as well as satisfaction.

Raising an eyebrow, you glance back at the repair shop.

We could see about getting him an apprentice.

...Again, I do not understand what this wuh-ee is. If you wish to gift The Mechanist an apprentice, feel free. You and I are likely to end up with one less capable than him.

You hum.

It's probably impossible to end up with another genius like the old man but you can at least end up with one capable of getting you what you need.

>[ ] Servants, followers, The Mechanist, and The Old King: what are any of them to you?
>[ ] Test out Tombstone's contact number, he could prove useful.
>[ ] Call Cottonmouth, Diamondback knew all his cell numbers.
>[ ] Hop back to the warehouse, you're done here.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3227270
A lot of things happened. You're in the period of time after a lot of those things happened.

There's a lot more things waiting for you in the future.

>>3227322
>call Cottenmouth, see what’s up
>try to explain to Us(?) what We is
>after all this play around with magic again

>>3227326
Yeah,cause that’s not suspicious at all

>>3227322
>>[X] Call Cottonmouth, Diamondback knew all his cell numbers.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Call Cottonmouth, Diamondback knew all his cell numbers.

Ren and Cuda did go stomping through Manhattan the other day. There's a chance they might have shaken down the shark teethed bastard. With Arturo and Nigel dead, he's the only remaining part of the Rivals' leadership. He could try and fuck you over with all the resources at the Rivals' disposal. The dumbass wouldn't win but that'd be annoying.

Reaching into your pocket, you flip out your burner and dial in one of Cottonmouth's recent burner numbers.

The line doesn't dial at all.

"We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and tr-"

You press down on the end call button and dial in another one of Cornell's numbers.

Four dials drone before the line breaks.

"Who am I talking to?"

Grinning, you glance at the burner from the corner of your eye.

"Who do you think?"

A grunt grumbles through the speakers.

"Oh, my man, I've been waiting to hear from you. Word on the streets is some Japanese girl and Cuda went around Manhattan with a crew putting out the memo that the streets are under new management. Considering you left with the big black sonofabitch, were they your people?"

You hum.

Telling Cottonmouth they were would lead to him trying to figure out your plan or include himself in it. He's not leadership material but a good puppet to have in control of Harlem, which you already have control of thanks to Cuda and Ren. You left him alive to better ease the transition from the Rivals' Harlem to your Harlem. Might still have his uses but he could be more trouble than they're worth.

>[ ] "No, I just talked with Cuda for a bit and left. I do know who that Japanese bitch is, though: I killed her twin sister. Wonder how she got Cuda to play ball."
>[ ] "They were, and that Japanese girl is your new boss who you'll be answering to from here on out. Disrespect her and she'll fuck you up, trust me."
>[ ] "In case you haven't heard, Arturo and Nigel are dead."
>[ ] "Where are you now? I need to meet with you in person."
>[ ] "I'm not your man: I'm your master."
>[ ] "Did they shake down your club?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3227770
>"They were, and that Japanese girl is your new boss who you'll be answering to from here on out. Disrespect her and she'll fuck you up, trust me."
We can arrange for more direct leadership later. For now, we keep him as a stooge.

>>3227807
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3227770
late, but this >>3227807

>[X] "They were, and that Japanese girl is your new boss who you'll be answering to from here on out. Disrespect her and she'll fuck you up, trust me."

May as well break the news to him now. He's going to find out sooner or later and it's better for it to happen sooner rather than later when he's got all his hopes up. Ren can handle him and Cuda would be more than willing to merc his ass if he tries to rebel.

"They were, and that Japanese girl is your new boss who you'll be answering to from here on out. Disrespect her and she'll fuck you up, trust me."

A tongue's cluck crackles through the burner.

"Just who is this chick and why am I answering to her? You need me to run Harlem. This part of New York City has always been completely different than the rest of it. That girl of yours' door knock was the exact opposite of what Harlem needed. People are going to get angry, gangs that the Rivals put down are going to get back up, and the mothafuckin police is going to get involved to put everyone down. I need to handle this on my own."

You growl.

"No, you don't. You need to sit down and listen: I need you to display some sort of loyalty, commitment, or understanding. After you do one of those three things, maybe you'll get to handle it the way you want to. For now, we're doing things my way because you are nobody to me and everyone else in this organization but maybe Cuda, who views you as a potential punching bag and gun range target which I'm beginning to understand the sentiment under. That chick you're running your mouth about is someone who could have torn through you, Shades, and Diamondback at the same time. Beyond combat prowess, she was up running her own gang and protection racket way before the age you, Diamondback, or Shades busted your first caps into another ignorant Harlem nigger's skull. I know what she's capable of and you don't want to figure it out the hard way. Do. You. Understand?"

The line lays silent for a moment.

"...Yeah."

You narrow your eyes.

"Speak up, I can't hear you."

Half a second is all that passes.

"Yes, sir."

Another hum rumbles in your throat.

There's nothing you hate more than an uppity underling who can't understand his place, circumstances, and abilities: you are a bullet-proof soul eating monster and Cottonmouth is just some small time pimp manager who part-times protection racketeering, no one would ever trust a complete stranger who just joined up with something as important as managing a sizable amount of turf alone, and Cottonmouth has little to no experience with this kind of thing while you, Ren, Marcus, and Itsuki all do.

It would all be forgivable if he wanted to be independent for reasons that don't involve feeling powerful.

>[ ] "Let's make one thing clear: I'm not your man, I'm your master."
>[ ] "In case you haven't heard, Arturo and Nigel are dead."
>[ ] "Where are you now? I need to meet with you in person."
>[ ] "Did your club get shaken down?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3228417
>[ ] "Oh, and in case you haven't heard, Arturo and Nigel are dead."

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

Was that an appropriate amount of independent action or do you guys feel like it's a bit much?

>>3228436
>an appropriate amount of independent action
What?

>>3228445
The response back to Cottonmouth.

>>3228452
Yeah that was appropriate
Cotton eating motherfucker needs to learn his place, and all that was IC for Kojo. No problems here Afungi

>>3228417
>>[X] "Let's make one thing clear: I'm not your man, I'm your master."
>>[X] "In case you haven't heard, Arturo and Nigel are dead."

>>3228778
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Let's make one thing clear: I'm not your man, I'm your master."
>[X] "In case you haven't heard, Arturo and Nigel are dead."

Just one last wake up call would force him to realize your relationship. You're not some golden ticket to his way to the top: you're the man who's holding the chain around his neck.

It's up to you whether to pull him around, let him breathe, or snap his neck on a whim.

"Let's make one thing clear: I'm not your man, I'm your master."

The line lays silent for a moment.

"...Yeah, I know."

A pleased hum rumbles in your throat.

Nothing beats a properly beaten feral dog that bit you and is now your submissive bitch. Dogs don't normally deserve the same treatment, though. Letting one smell you, petting it after it has gotten to know you, and feeding it something are all the actions it takes to make the snuggly animal a good boy and/or bitch. A shame you could never spare enough food for one. You just killed all the dogs you came across and ate their roasted rich meat as a child. Marcus freaked the fuck out when you first killed a stray dog for its meat. Though, he changed his mind when he a got a taste.

Speaking of getting a taste.

"In case you haven't heard, Arturo and Nigel are dead."

Once again, silence fills the air.

"Shit, how long ago?"

A smirk makes its way on your face.

"Since yesterday."

Yet another clucking tongue crackles through the burner speaker.

"Why didn't you tell me then?"

You narrow your eyes.

"Because I had other shit to worry about and Cuda would take care of the stragglers along with your new boss. If they haven't gone to you yet, they're probably dead. That new boss of yours will handle whatever is left over."

A sigh fuzzles through the cell.

"Got it, we done here or?"

You hum.

>[ ] "Where are you now? I need to meet with you in person."
>[ ] "Did your club get shaken down?"
>[ ] "Yeah, we're done."
>[ ] Servants, followers, The Mechanist, and The Old King: what are any of them to you?
>[ ] Hang up and test out Tombstone's contact number, he could prove useful.
>[ ] Hop back to the warehouse, you're done here.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3229888
>[ ] "Yeah, we're done."
>[ ] Hop back to the warehouse, you're done here.
>[ ] Servants, followers, The Mechanist, and The Old King: what are any of them to you?

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Yeah, we're done."
>[X] Hop back to the warehouse, you're done here.
>[X] Servants, followers, The Mechanist, and The Old King: what are any of them to you?

There's nothing more that can or should be said. Cottonmouth has an idea of what his place in this world and your organization rightfully is. You couldn't care less if Cuda and Ren trashed his club. If you tried to meet him in person, he'd likely be a passive aggressive bitch about things.

"Yeah, we're done."

Moving your thumb over the red phone button, you end the call before Cornell can.

You slide the burner into your pocket and back-flip onto the roof of the workshop before taking off into the cityscape.

It takes you twelve minutes to cut through Brooklyn, pass Queens, hop into the Bronx, and get back to Hunts Point.

A sigh escapes your lips as you land on the roof of the warehouse.

Marcus is your best friend but, like the piece of shit you are, you left him here without any way to get back down.

If you're that shitty to the person you value the most in the world, the other you who really doesn't see much in people beyond what they can offer him must have some really fucked up thoughts about them.

Servants, followers, The Mechanist, and The Old King: what are any of them to you?

They are to me as they are to you: a means to an end.

You groan.

Of course, his answer just raises more questions.

>[ ] Hop down and walk inside, they could use an update and you could ask if Marcus or Ren wants to join you up here.
>[ ] Just what the hell is up with your name? I can't understand it.
>[ ] ...Do you hate me or yourself?
>[ ] What is Marcus to you?
>[ ] A means to what end?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3230269
>what’s your name
>a means to an end?
>who do you hate? Me or yourself

>>3230269
this >>3230419

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] A means to what end?
>[X] Just what the hell is up with your name? I can't understand it.
>[X] ...Do you hate me or yourself?

Per usual, you're never satisfied with one question and must ask for answers so you get more questions to ask for more answers. Truth has always been an ever so elusive commodity. Fact that truth can be subjective at some points makes it even harder to get by.

A means to what end?

To be who you and I truly are: to be what you and I should be, _________________

You blink and grunt.

Once again, all you hear when he tells you who he and you are is a complete void in your mind.

Just what the hell is up with your name? I can't understand it.

Because you cannot understand me or yourself. This very conversation you and I are having cannot and should not be occurring yet it is. A paradox likely a result of the numerous paradoxes that resulted throughout you and I's existence. You and I still are yet due to those circumstances you and I should not. It is infuriating. If I could devour you, I would.

A hum rumbles in your throat.

That actually explains some things but leaves you with one last question.

...Do you hate me or yourself?

...

...

...

You don't understand.
You do not understand.

>[ ] Jump down and walk inside, they could use an update and you could ask if Marcus or Ren wants to join you up here.
>[ ] Hating myself is also a paradox isn't it?
>[ ] What is Marcus to you?
>[ ] I hate me, too.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3230778
>jump down, this isn’t yielding any new info

>>3230778
>[ ] Hating myself is also a paradox isn't it?
and this >>3230841

>>3230841
>>3230846
SUPPORT

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Hating myself is also a paradox isn't it?
>[X] Jump down, this isn’t yielding any new info.

It's far too common to think of it as something other than normal rather than a paradox. People shouldn't hate themselves even if they're a piece of shit. To be and to wish not to be what you are is detrimental. But it might lead to that person becoming better by changing so they don't hate themselves anymore as a way to rectify it.

Hating myself is also a paradox isn't it?

Yes, a dangerous one many fall prey to.

Another sigh escapes your lips.

Of course a piece of shit like you would be good at a lot of things but fall into the most basic of fucking human bullshit.

You are not helping yourself or I.

You growl.

Would you shut the fuck up and learn to use pronouns?

Silence once again fills your mind.

Taking a deep breathe, you calm yourself and hop down in front of the warehouse entrance, turning mid air to face the closed gate.

You input the door code and wait for the obstruction to creak and bellow open.

Strolling to the round-table, you wave to your surrounding men and the three inner circle members still where you last left them.

Marcus raises an eyebrow as you approach.

"Where's Itsuki?"

A groan escapes your lips.

"He's staying behind in Queens waiting for his boys to finish up with their families. Probably going to take him until tomorrow to come back, which he will. The man's lenient and devoted."

The man laughs.

"Yeah, he's a nice tough guy. You'd think he'd be some underworld hardass from his time in the Yakuza, but Itsuki's pretty chill. Man's got a thick head, though."

You nod.

The Japanese man just cannot read the environment or take things lightly.


>[ ] "I'm going to be on the roof if any of you need me while you're sleeping."
>[ ] "Do you want to sleep with me on the roof again?"
>[ ] "Ren, do you want to sleep on the roof tonight?"
>[ ] "Let's all go upstairs to bed, the day is over."
>[ ] Pick up Alex, she is your cat.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3231237
>>[X] "Let's all go upstairs to bed, the day is over."

>>3231237
>[ ] "Let's all go upstairs to bed, the day is over."
>[ ] "I'm going to be on the roof if any of you need me while you're sleeping."

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>[X] "Let's all go upstairs to bed, the day is over."

>[X] "Let's all go upstairs to bed, the day is over."
>[X] "I'm going to be on the roof if any of you need me while you're sleeping."

>[X] "Let's all go upstairs to bed, the day is over."

No harm sleeping under a roof once in a while. This way you can spend some time with Marcus or with one of the others without leaving them on the roof like an idiot. Will be significantly more boring if you don't sleep through the night, however.

"Let's all go upstairs to bed, the day is over."

Marcus once again raises an eyebrow at you.

"Getting bored of stargazing for once?"

You shrug.

"Just feel like laying down on a cushion tonight, I guess."

The black man groans.

"Seriously, how the fuck do you sleep like that when you actually do sleep? If I didn't grab a sleeping bag, I would've woken up feeling sore as shit. Wind wasn't that bad, but I had a blanket while you had your skin."

A grin spreads across your face.

"I've got some pretty voluptuous skin."

Marcus shoots you a look as he rises from his chair while Alex purrs in Ren's lap.

"Don't. Just don't: I don't need that image in my head."

You shoot him a look back.

"It's right in front of you clear, smooth, and bright as day."

He starts walking around the round-table to the ladders.

"Still though."

Alex jumps from Ren's lap to Marcus' seat before leaping at you.

"Meow!"

You catch the blond kitten as Ren, sighing in relief, rises from her chair before you both begin following Marcus.

"Still what? Your logic is flawed."

Marcus clucks his tongue.

"Perfectly fucking sound logic with the implications the word 'voluptous' gives off."

You laugh as Alex begins to rub her cheek against yours.

"And you think I'm fucked in the head."

The man shakes his head at you while you position yourself under one of the ladder openings.

"Kojo, there's fucked in the head and then there's you."

You blink and nod before jumping up to the second floor.

As you make your way to an unoccupied spot among sleeping bodies, you see Jesus slumbering in his own little secluded oasis among the piles of nodding off and unconscious bodies.

Finally strolling onto one of your own, you drop Alex and fall down next to her.

The minx immediately pounces on you and begins rubbing her entire clothed body against you.

You groan.

Really, you shouldn't have throat fucked her or took her up here with you but you couldn't risk the chance of anyone else getting their fingers in what's your pie.

>[ ] "Can we be real here? I don't mean you being crazy whore serial killer real, though the serial killer part and whore are kind of real, but can you be real with me for once?"
>[ ] "Down, kitty."
>[ ] Motion at Ren to join you when she comes up, you need a less crazy woman nearby.
>[ ] Wait for Marcus to come up and wave at him to join you, he is your best friend.
>[ ] Throw Alex aside, less sexiness is exactly what you need in your life.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3232109
>down kitty
>can we be real, for once
>get Ren up here after we’re finished talking

>>3232109
>>[X] "Can we be real here? I don't mean you being crazy whore serial killer real, though the serial killer part and whore are kind of real, but can you be real with me for once?"
>>[X] Motion at Ren to join you when she comes up, you need a less crazy woman nearby.

>>3232109
this >>3232255

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

How you all doing?

>>3232330
I'm doing good. Though a quest I liked came to an end today.

>>3232330
I’m okay,

>>3232390
Stardust Crusaders?

>>3232411
Yep. I was there since the first day, went through it's darkest moments and highest peaks.

>>3232430
How'd it end? Good? Bad? Bittersweet?

>>3232434
It was a little bittersweet. We had a really good run but of course, this is Jojo and characters were lost. And we'll probably won't see more of DusterManQM on qst after this.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Can we be real here? I don't mean you being crazy whore serial killer real, though the serial killer part and whore are kind of real, but can you be real with me for once?"
>[X] Motion at Ren to join you when she comes up, you need a less crazy woman nearby.

She's been letting her usual personality slip as of late. That's most likely why she's been acting like a horny cat and meowing instead of saying anything. Unfortunately for her, you remember her bringing up Kingpin's lawyer as clear as day. It's impossible for you to forget the moment Alex owned everyone else's plans at the inner circle.

You hold the girl still by her sides and look deep into her eyes.

"Can we be real here? I don't mean you being crazy whore serial killer real, though the serial killer part and whore are kind of real, but can you be real with me for once?"

Alex bats her big blue eyes at yours before narrowing them slightly and leaning her face closer to yours.

"Now why would you want that? Do you hate the thought of me casually talking about fucking other men? Is the thought of me uncontrollable and wanting unbearable to you now that you've claimed me as your woman?" She coos. "It's adorable how you want me all to yourself but won't even touch me after an entire year and a half of me flaunting myself at you when you finally fucked me." A sigh escapes her lips. "Not the orifice I would've preferred for that big dick but it was nice finally having it in me."

You blink.

"I...I don-"

The extremely sultry minx puts a finger to your lips and shushes you.

"It's okay, Kojo. You don't have to lie to yourself anymore." She begins rubbing her crotch against yours. "Just lay back and let me take care of you."

Once again blinking, you look to the ladders and beck your hand at an emerging Japanese girl.

Ren blinks, twitches, and makes her way through the sea of sleepy people to you.

"...Reyes-sama." She turns to the blond ontop of you. "Alex."

Alex purrs turning her head to face the Japanese girl.

"Came to join in, Ren?" She turns back to you. "Kojo, you beast."

You groan.

This is the exact opposite of what you wanted to happen.

>[ ] "I don't know how this happened, Ren. She just went crazy."
>[ ] "This isn't what it looks like."
>[ ] "Ren, can you get her off me?"
>[ ] Push Alex off you, this is not comfortable.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3233485
>[ ] "Ren, can you get her off me?"
>(to Bold Red) This is becoming bothersome. Any advice?

>>3233485
>>[X] "I don't know how this happened, Ren. She just went crazy."
>>[X] "Ren, can you get her off me?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "I don't know how this happened, Ren. She just went crazy."
>[X] "Can you get her off me?"
>[X] This is becoming bothersome. Any advice?

Telling the truth and asking for help seem like the best decisions you can make right now. Holding her any further will lead to certain complications of the genital variety. Ren can more than handle the crazy bitch.

"I don't know how this happened, Ren. She just went crazy."

Ms. Not-Normally-A-Bitch stares at you blankly.

"Alex is Alex: she's always this way."

For the umpteenth time, you blink.

It seems as though the Japanese maiden is losing faith in you or Run has sprung out from the abyss in Ren's mind.

"Can you get her off me?"

Ren does not speak a word as she wraps her arms around the Minx's body and lifts.

Alex blinks and whines in the Japanese girl's arms.

"You're no fun."

One long drawn out sigh escapes your lips.

This is becoming bothersome. Any advice?'

Ravage her.

You groan.

Something not relating to sex?

Torturing the disobedience out of her should solve your issue but I do not understand why you do not use her for her purpose as you did before.

Moving a hand of yours over your face, you grumble into it.

Why do I even before with you?

You and I are you and I.

Sliding your hand off your face, you groan again.

Learn. Pronouns.

Once again, silence fills your mind.

This is such a clusterfuck.

>[ ] "Lay down the both of you, let's sleep."
>[ ] "Excuse me, I'm going to go to bed."
>[ ] "Ren, drop Alex."
>[ ] Kip-up and walk over to wherever Marcus is, the hoe is getting to you.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3233742
>[ ] "Excuse me, I'm going to go to bed."
These hoes are nothin but trouble, I tell ya hwat

I'm going to class soon. Will close voting and update when I get back.

>>3233742
>>[X] "Excuse me, I'm going to go to bed."

>>3233777
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Excuse me, I'm going to go to bed."

You've had enough craziness for one day. Even if you end up having another one of those dreams, it would definitely be better than this. At least it won't be a public spectacle and you can clean up after yourself.

"Excuse me, I'm going to go to bed."

Alex and Ren both shoot you a disappointed look.

"How disappointing and unmanly."

Ren sighs as she drags the blond girl off.

"I'll leave you alone, Reyes-sama."

You watch as the Japanese girl carries the minx off to another spot on the second floor.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips before a wave of shame washes over you.

When you could've handled things like a productive person, you had your servant take it over and let the blond off without penalty, like a bitch.

You let out a groan.

The woman who birthed you would be disappointed as would every other parental figure in your life and Marcus if he saw that.

Closing your eyes, you rest until sleep takes you and hope you never wake up.

You open them again to the infinite world of prostrating servants.

A world shaking hum rumbles in your throat.

Something happened the last time you were here, but you can't remember.

>[ ] "Phoenix, even here your light can shine."
>[ ] "Death, I know you're there."
>[ ] "Are y̱̼͕͇o̪̯̼̬͕̕ͅu̝̦͕̕ there in the dark?"
>[ ] Sit and rest on your throne of sexy writhing bodies, there's nothing for you to concern yourself with.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3234333
>>[X] "Are y̱̼͕͇o̪̯̼̬͕̕ͅu̝̦͕̕ there in the dark?"

>>3234347
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Are y̱̼͕͇o̪̯̼̬͕̕ͅu̝̦͕̕ there in the dark?"

Even though you can't remember or see anything out of the ordinary, you don't feel alone or fully one in this world. S̴̘̼̫̗o̳̠̰͉m̴̘e͔̟̳̹͈t͕̘͟ͅh̰ͅi͉̤̮̟͔ͅn͈̺̠̮g̼ is in this world few beings could ever reach. You don't what it is and don't want to but you have to.

"Are y̱̼͕͇o̪̯̼̬͕̕ͅu̝̦͕̕ there in the dark?"

An eon of the writhing beneath you passes before everything freezes.

I̞̳͞ ̶w̞̭͇̳̼a̤̟͕̞̩ͅs ̷͈̩̗͉͎̩̺b̴̺o̻̘r̳n̢͙ ̭͓ịn̜̰͙̞̖ t̖̺͍̬͉̣h̨̘͍̣̘̩̞e̫̪̖̤̠̤ ̸̙͇͙͔d̴͇͈͍͕̳ar͙͓͇k̪͚̦ ̩͈̣̣͚͎̕c̞̱̠͖ọ̙̳ͅl̝̳ḓ̤̘͉,̷̱ ̛̜̥͍I͕̯͇͙͚͍ ͔̳l͎͍̗͇̗i̜̳̪̬̭̞͉͡v͍͔̼̩̻e̶̤͖͔͈̮̳ͅd̺̀ ̰̯͓͔͎i̠͓̹͈͎͞n̨̝ ̱͉̬t̮̯̥͓́h͎̭͈͕̀ͅe̬͜ ̟͉͚d͇̹a̫̰̺͍̳̱͜r̰̙͙̜̹̣͢k̕ ̮͍͡c̭̯̺̫͙͎͘ó͙̱̖̯̗̹ḽ͕d̖̖,̸̠ ̴͚̪̥͖ͅa̩̙̤̳̳̟̼nd͍̗̠̟͈̙ ̺̬̘̣I ̮̩̻͉͈͍̫̕d̖͓̰̪̬̭͘i̟͎̭ͅe̮̱͓̙͉̝̹d̫ͅ ͓̰̞̮͔ͅi̞̝͍̗ͅn̙̩͚̳ ̻t̮̘̮̩̘͎̱h̯̬̤̠͈̦e̻̭̮͈̝̩ ̟̤͖̰̟d̩̖̪̝a̩̥̟ͅr̰͜k͙̘ ̹̞̗͍̭͔̳͝c̝̠̰o̦̰̜͖l͙̀ḓ̺̯.̘͎͕̮͔̮̫ ̛̖̻

You narrow your eyes.

"Who are you?"

The void lays silent.

W̯͙͖̱̹h̗̜̻͇̼̪̜́ơ̜ ̩͉̮̼̺̖a̟̘ͅr̶͔͇̙͎̟e͈̝̘͘ ̙͓y̥͕̦͕ͅo̺̠̪̮̦̬̯u̳͔͙̣̞ͅͅ?̦͖͎̬̼͜

A growl in your throat shakes the still world.

For some reason, you feel like this has happened before.

"I am _____________________"

The darkness stirs.

D̜̣̯͚̬͡o̗̮̱̥͓ ̢͖y̳͇o̧͚̱̬̥u̻̦̬̱̦̖ ̠̻̳̦͓͉̣e̩̹v̼̞͎͙̙̙͈͜e̢̻͖̘n̸͍̹̹̫̼̗ ̗̞̖͟k̛͍͈̮̤̱̟͍n̠̫̤͈̱̝ͅow͍͎͍ ̤̳̗͉͉͜w̷̻̟̺h̘̩͓̱̮̦̻a̰̺͖ț̻̗͓͕̜̩̕ ͍̯̪͈yo̱̝̝͜u̦̻ ̷̜̻̱̻̣̹ͅa͡r̴̥e̪̖͕͍̩ͅ ̱̹͠c̗̱̖̬a̻̮͟l̦̰̬̪͇ḻ̹̘i̤̹̳ṉg̼͇ ̹̩y͉̳̞̠͈̤͍o̡̗̤͕̠ͅu̧͖̰͚̮̱r̫s̳̻̯̤̻̣̝͡è̝̟͍̩l̫̺f̸̖̙̘͉ͅ?̦͔̮͍̰̝̭͟

You blink.

Even in this world, it eludes you.


>[ ] "Phoenix, even here your light can shine."
>[ ] "Death, I know you're there."
>[ ] "What is it that you want?"
>[ ] "It doesn't matter."
>[ ] "...No, do you?"
>[ ] WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!
>[ ] Write In.

>>3234518
>"It doesn't matter."

>>3234521
>>[X] "...No, do you?"

>>3234536
Ditto

>>3234536
This

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...No, do you?"

You do not know what your moniker is or understand but the being seems to. This might be your only chance to figure it out. By all means, you should know who and what you are.

"...No, do you?"

The darkness stops.

...W̛̻̞̠̫͖̖h̸e̥̩͚͖n̖̯̭̤̝̮̫͟ ̬I͖͚ ̺f̵͍̖͙̞i̞̩͇͔̻r̺̠͜s͖t͓ ̧̗h̥̼̤͎͓̺͜ͅea̘͔̼̕rd ͈i̤̘̩͉̬͓͢t̯͔̩, ͎͎̗͍͈͎̫I̜̗̭͔ͅ ͓d̢is̰̠̥͕͎m̪̝̩̪ͅi̬s̗͎͍͞s͕̹͔͚̙e̤̱̬̦͚ḍ̤͍̬́ t̠̗̻͔̖͚h̸̦̱͙e̜͔ ̴̰̞̥̺̭c̸̺͍̟͇ọ͍̫͙ͅn̖̹̳͞ͅc͙͚̯͇é̺͎̭̼p̩̫̼͝t̟̠̙̪ ̜͢a̗̤͉̱̯͝s̸̖ ̮͉̩͖̻̠̕n̛ͅo͚̮͓͎̳n͉͓͈͔̼̖s͎͕̤͢e̶͕̰n͍̹̳̘͉s̠̩̠ę̪̫̜̰̰:͈̹̠̱̮ ̦̣ṭ̟ha̙̙t͉ ̣͚͎̟̤Ǫ̰n̡̪͎̗e̦̖͖ ̯̼̦͡c̀an̹n̢̦̟͇̣ͅó͍̞̝̙̱ṱ́ ̶͈̰̝b̷̯̭e̴͇ ͎̜͔o̧̩̦̣̦̤͕r̥̜̘͇̝̱͙ ̜̻͖̙̬ḙ͍̟v̝̻͚̙̮̝̳ḙ̷̥͉̮r̞ ̹̱͖̭b̷̝̖e̟̜̞.͇̜͕̖̺

A groan escapes your lips that quakes the world.

"What One? Why?"

It grows and grows.

T̬̘͇̖̯h̖̘̤ͅe̩̺͕͙͖̺͢ ̤̝͇Ǫ͉̳̭̗ne͉̼̜ ̣͖̣̗͓̙͔͞y̯̼̘o̸̫̤͙̥̭u͉ ̱̥̹̱̭c̸͔̠̥̙̗̠̠l͙̼͚̺̭̀a̛i͕m̴̜ ͖̪̞t̟̰͓̪̀o̳̟͓̱̮̪͈͟ ̨͍̠̥͇̜̼be͓̙̹̦̟.̖̭͈͚͡ ̘͚̘̬̹͎́I̳͔̻͙͖̹̠t̩͉̬̙̯͞s̷̟̮̩͎ ̡̪̞̙̘̰͕v̸̞̯̞̥̬ẹ̳̳̠̗r͚͓͚͡y̙̞ i̻̦̗̞͍d̘̰͖̘͇ͅͅe̟͍̗͔͎̭a͍̭͍̮̻̦͠ ̴͍̩͙̗i̢s̸̘̗̻̺͙̣ ̺̭͚̪̺̤̮be͈̼ỳ̝̭̥o̧̖͔͚̠͕̺̹nd̳̺̖̳̼ ̶̝͍̠͙a̖ny ̙̳̘r̴̪͍̟̣̬̦ea̯̪̩s̮ǫ͍̠͎͉͉̙̥n̶͎̯̬̺͙ a̦nd ̧y̝̤͓̤̳o̺͉ṷ̕ ͇̳͕d̝̥̹i̩̤͖̬̟d̵̼̪ ̛̜̯̪n͙̣̝ơ̬̭̤̱̫t͖̙ ̣͎̙̹̻g̴̝̪̰͇̳i̬̤̹͙̘̻͠v̳̜̬̬̤̮́e̙̺̫͝ ̫͎m͉͕̩̳e͝ ̷a̛̺̦͙n̤̪͉̥̭̥ ̪̥a̬̺n͎̱͚͕͕͈ͅs͕̰̱͇̮ͅw͈e̦̥̳͓ṛ ̞͕̜t̬̱͚ò͙̤̬̻̖̪ ̶̦͙͇̙͙̪̯m̩̳͉̥̙̱͢y ̩͚͈͖͔̫q̱̝͈̼͝ư̰̻̣̝e͚̜̱͙̜̠̪s̴͍̱͉ț̱͇̩͓̩͕ì̬̗̗̹͕o͉͡n̵͇͚̦.̡̰̝̪

You growl, making the world shake again.

"Answer to what question?

Once again, the darkness stops and eons pass.

W͞h̝̭͓̥̹̪͘y̬͘ ̺̤̞d̺̼̳o͚͝ ̹͈̠I̝̜̬̦̭͎ ̼͚̮̙e̴ͅx̸̥i̥͙͜s̛̤̳̝̫̣̰t͕̭?̟̤̝̙̘

...

...

Y͖̰̘o͔u̮ ̜̞̪̞̭̦̱̕d̺̗̳̗̯͖ͅo̴̮͍̬̫ ́n̤͔̼̫o̬̰̬̳̤͟ͅt͎̳͓͈ ̶͕ͅu̡̹͖̭̰̭͖n̶̰͍̠̜̤d̘̪̻ḙ̵̣̻͈̹̰r̨̯̗̘͈̠ś̳̰͍̘̺t̼͖̯͚̹͙̣a̤͡n̤d̦̭͖̞̱.̨̘̳̘
̞̤

Your body and the world crack.

>[ ] "You exist because I permit it."
>[ ] "...I can't answer your question."
>[ ] "...Why do you think you exist?"
>[ ] "...It doesn't matter."
>[ ] WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) before class if I have time. Sorry for the wait, ended up being dragged off somewhere by my family and had a miserable time.

What are you guys thinking?

>>3234932
>[ ] "Because you are an old part of me. Cast off, severed, excised."
>[ ] "There's gaps in my thoughts regarding you. It must be related to that. When I became me, it must have removed you from me somehow."
>[ ] "…I still do not understand why you exist, but I feel it almost within reach." Hum thoughtfully. "Perhaps you can help me, and I can help you. What do you say?"
>[ ] Extend a hand out to the darkness, and smile the smile of a dominator granting reprieve.

>>3234963
Ditto

>>3234963
Support

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Because you are an old part of me. Cast off, severed, excised. There's gaps in my thoughts regarding you. It must be related to that. When I became me, it must have removed you from me somehow...I still do not understand why you exist, but I feel it almost within reach." Hum thoughtfully. "Perhaps you can help me, and I can help you. What do you say?"
>[X] Extend a hand out to the darkness, and smile.

Its nature is obvious now. You've figured it out before some time before this, but you don't remember how. Whatever it is, it's part of you or a fragment of you from a time you don't want to ever remember. It might be painful but you may be able to resolve this conundrum.

"Because you are an old part of me. Cast off, severed, excised. There's gaps in my thoughts regarding you. It must be related to that. When I became me, it must have removed you from me somehow...I still do not understand why you exist, but I feel it almost within reach." A hum rumbles in your throat. "Perhaps you can help me, and I can help you. What do you say?"

You extend your hand out into nothing and smile.

The blackness stirs and grows.

̖Y̟͙̯͈͇̞o̴̳ṷ̪͚̖̹̕ ̬͚͓͕̰̩d̯͘o̖̭̺̕ ̤n̗͉̟̦̻ͅo̤̠͎̙̟̗͈͢t̟̬̙͚͚ ̧̭u̳͖͇̹̻̙n͙̬͕̜̙͚d̜͠e̗̕r̛͎̤̙͕̱̫̩s̠͍̖ţ̝̪̭̹̰̞͎a̺̻̦͟n̮̞̙̗̝̯̫͟d̞́.̯͚̮ ̛̜ͅͅY̥̗͉͈̗̭̟o͙u͎͕̩̪͖͍̥ ̱̭̙d̶o̝̟͎̼͚̖ ̷̱͓̺̘̼̪n̹̫͠o͍̭t̩̻̩͉ ̦̺̳u̧̖̦ͅn̼̹̞̝̦ͅḏe͙̤̠͎̝͉͙rst̙̪͙̹a̬n͔͈̰̘͕̬͝d̥ ̶͖̗̰̩͉a͔̖̖̗̰ͅt̙̜͎́ ͉̞̣̼̖a̦̞̘͉l̠̬̪̦̣̕l͍͕̞͙̳͎̀.͍͇̞̪͎͖̬ ́

Rescinding your hand, you scowl.

"Then make me, I'm trying to help you."

It warps and churns what it is enveloping.

Y̭̩̭̣̕ͅo̢̻̖̳u̴'̶͇̟̣͉̞ͅr̘͚̫͞ȩ̼ o̩̗n̛l̛̖͓ỳ̹͕̱͔̜̘͖ ̮̫̖̺̪t̤̖̗̫r̩̬̖̳͢y̫̻̹̮̳̞í̫̝n͙̱̻̜̰̬̮g̮͉̻͕͕ ̥͔͚̖̠t̳̥͙̗̮ó̙̺̘̗ ̰̪̤́h͓̠̺͍̻e͙̩͚̜͇͢l̪͉̹̝̣̙ͅp̢̟̙͚̘͓͉̤ ͎͙͖y̮̤̯̘̯̜o̭̱ͅͅu̼̜̺r̩͙̦̯ͅs̯̺̗͎̼̱͎e͔̹̩l̬̟̠͓̻̪f̻̘̙͠.͓̰

A growl from your throat causes the world to shake.

"Just make me understand."

The shadows stop.

Wh̴̺̱̭͔y̪͎ ̤̫̺̣̼͡d̺̩̝͖͇o̸̙̺̻͈̖͚ͅ ̪͓̤̫͢y̸̩͍̜̼̖ọ̸̜̝̳͓͚u͎ ̩̞̪̖͖̱̻e̙͈x̞̮̹̻̠͜i͔̯̖̟̣s̤̥̜̦̣̙t̳ͅ?

...

...

Y̦̼͕̳͍͘o̰̠̻u ̢̣̰̣̰d̛̹͍ͅo̘̭̜ ̺͚͘n̗͚o͍̘̹t͉̼̬̻̺͘ͅ ̗͚̜͙̕u̞͖͚̺̻ṉ̫̣̜̤̗̯d̢͚͔̪̖̟̞e͓r̻̖͈̙̮̫̣s̡̥̤̫t̡̻̩̖͙ͅá͙͓͍̳̰̩n̝̱̺̼d͙̭̤̭̟͚̜.̘̺̝̳̪͇

Both you and the world shatter.

>[ ] "...Why do you want to know?"
>[ ] "...It doesn't matter."
>[ ] "...I don't know why."
>[ ] WAKE UP!
>[ ] Write In.

>>3235517
>"...I don't know why."
Maybe the key is admitting our weakness.

>>3235523
Old Kojo didn't like it when we said we didn't know, because we do, somewhere. I think this is the sort of thing a write-in is needed for. Any ideas?

>>3235517
I got it.
>[ ] "…Of course I'm trying to help myself! You're a part of me too, damnit, cast off or otherwise!"
>[ ] "…Fine. I don't know why. It slips from the the more I try."

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

>>3235560
Ah, my mistake.
I'll switch to supporting you then.

>>3235560
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...Of course I'm trying to help myself! You're a part of me too, dammit, cast off or otherwise!"
>[X] "...Fine. I don't know why. It slips from me the the more I try."

For some reason, you have a fantastic ability to anger yourself. Whether when you're normally split or one, you find a way. You are not fully whole if this thing is truly a part of you, though.

A groan escapes your lips.

"...Of course I'm trying to help myself! You're a part of me too, dammit, cast off or otherwise!"

It stirs again.

I̠̞͉͕̤̦͙ ̥̖st͍o̞p̪͜p̩͔e͖̗̗͓̦d̸̳ ͇͔͢b̭̫͟ͅe̛̦̥i͕̞̘̝̙͡n̫g͍͓͡ ̨ͅy̺͕̟̮͎͖͠ó̺̫̫̦̪u͈ ͇̦a̴̠͓̠̤̭͚s̥ ͍̺̝̖̜y̻̱̭̩̻o̻u̙͇̩͚͈͢ ̡̘͎͔̬̫̭̺s̰̻̦̩͚͍t̪̘͚͕͡o̷̘p̸͖̭̯̼̮p̭̻͎̫͙̜̮e͎̭̯̱͔d̼̮̱̯̩̭͍ ̷̗̘̻͉̠̪b̷̜̭̙͖̼e̻̞̪̣̺̮i͙̼̘̘͚n͈͍̭̝g̝͘ ̟͠m͜ḙ̫̗̗̮̙̥ ̯a̞̬ ̴̞͕̙lo͚̥͉̥̜͟n̶̺̺̬̹̦g̘̠̼͙͙̣͔ ̨͇̙̫͖͓̰t̜̼͘i̴̥̤̙̞̳m̷͇̺e̹ a̳̪̗g͇̰̖̱͜o̺̯̗͙̣̤͟.̡͓̰ ̠̦͈͚̥͍̠͞

You snarl.

"Explain it to me, then!"

The void stops its stirring.

A̼̥ns̭͇̜̞w͚̹͓͎̞ẹ͕r̦͕ ͚̙͍̟͎̘m̖̜̺͖ͅy ̝̠̫̤̞̤̞q̴͇̰͚̼̹̠u̪͇͇̱è̜̝̣͇̯̩s̵t̥̺̠̙͎͍̀i̴͇̣̺̬o̥̞n͔̩͇͈͡.

Relaxing for a moment, you sigh.

"...Fine. I don't know why. It slips from me the the more I try."

You see, hear, feel, smell, and taste it retreat.

Y̠̻̩̤̝o̝̮u̻̺ ̻͈͍̟̭̭̫h̥͎͉͡ạ̤̤̫͜v͈̪e̡̼n̫͈̘̝͚͟'̦t̸̻̮͓̰̭ ̨͇͎̭̪̣̪t͈̩̤̮̪̯̕r̨̺̻̦i̧̞̣͍̳e͉͖d͡ a̞̖͇͕̯n̻̳̘̥͔y̥̠͇̥̣͔͍t͙̞͔͈͍̠͠h̬̳̜̰̞̱i͍͉n̨g̪ ͖͉͠a͉̼̥t͕̙͉̞͈͢ ͉̤al̪̮̩l̖͚̝͙͉ͅ,̻͎͝ ̢̝b̙͈̘u̝̠̠͍̳ṯ̨̭̘ I ̢k̶̦͔̘̤̮͍̬no͓̱̫͎͖w̥ ̤͔t̻̞͟h͍͙at ͉͓̱̹͍w̢̖͇̯͈a̴̠̹̘̩̝s̵̟̖̗̰̞̣ ̦ỳ̰̪̪͙̻̭ọ͕̺̜͢ͅu̴̖̱ṛ̯ ́o̵̭͍͖n̠͖͞ly̘͔̩̼ ̧̤̭̗̹̠̘a̝̫̰̟ṋ̬͍͕s̻͕̬̙͇ͅw̢̭͔e͕r̶̹͈͓̮̙̥.͢ ̵͎̖̪Y̯̦͡ͅo̘̖̻͚̠͜u̬͡ ̢͍͖̰̭͇̭tr̛u͎̯̰̫̳ͅͅl̠͇y̢̝̝̠̯̥ ̯̥a̪̦̠̣̖̘̕r̙̜̀e̩͖ ͅn̶̹̟̠̠o̘͉̹͙͜t̶͈ ̨̙̬͔̺w̵͕̝̰̙̝̤h͙͉a͞ͅt͡ ̸̼y̤̬o͍̖̻̫u͎̦ͅ ̱̠̬͕̟̣͇͞c̥̠͍͕͡l̙͍̫a̟im̞̪̻ ̞̮̩̺̞͎͈to̖ ̥̬̰̤̳̠b͡e̺.͙̕

Once again, you groan.

Really, you can be absolutely insufferable.

>[ ] "Leave me to my writhing throne, you waste of time."
>[ ] "It doesn't matter. Why do you care?"
>[ ] "Why do you want to know, anyway?"
>[ ] "Again, what am I not?"
>[ ] Awaken, let this dream be at an end.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3236148
>[ ]...You don't know what I am do you?

>>3236148
>[ ] "…You don't know what I am either, do you? Same reason as I don't know why you exist. Because SOMETHING happened to ruin you and me, to ruin the memories you and I would share."
>[ ] "I want to work this out, but you and I have spoken enough for now. Maybe Marcus can give an idea or two. Until next time then."
>[ ] Awaken, let this dream be at an end.
Slow progress is steady progress.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>[ ]...You don't know what I am do you?

>[ ] "I want to work this out, but you and I have spoken enough for now. Maybe Marcus can give an idea or two. Until next time then."
>[ ] Awaken, let this dream be at an end.

>>3236295
wait mine was basically the second one but shittier

>>3236295
use >>3236171

>>3236340
Okay, I just rolled because one included ending the dream.

>>3236393
well haven't we talked about everything there is with VOID?

>[X] "...You don't know what I am either, do you? Same reason as I don't know why you exist. Because something happened to ruin you and me, to ruin the memories you and I would share."
>[X] "I want to work this out, but you and I have spoken enough for now. Maybe Marcus can give an idea or two. Until next time then."
>[X] Awaken, let this dream be at an end.

>(1/2)

Despite all its talk, it hasn't given you any real evidence it knows what you are either. It is you and you would rather deceive your enemy into thinking you know than letting them know you don't know. Something else has to be behind this split.

A hum rumbles in your throat, vibrating throughout the dream world.

"...You don't know what I am either, do you? Same reason as I don't know why you exist. Because something happened to ruin you and me, to ruin the memories you and I would share."

The darkness pulls back further.

I̩͖̘͚̼͘ ̸̱̻̻̬͉k̯̖͍̯̦n̮̦̥͖̞̝͈o̩̤w̨͎̗ ͓͚̗̱͍p̠̳̫͈̖͎̬͘e̷͚̻̙̜r͚̩̤͝f̞̣̘͉̪ec̵̻̫̥͉ͅt̝̖̬͖̮l̩͠y̙̦͉̩̦̝̦ ̫̤̣̤͍̫̤w̵ͅe̡͉͖͈͔l̪̦ḽ̪̠̀ ͡w͍̺͈̱͕h̟͈̳͎͖a͍̪̞̪̮ṱ̙͍̝̻̫̥ ̞̼͍̱͟y̭̻͓͉͈̗o̵͕̞u̖ ͖̻c͓̤̥̬ͅl̛̠̮͍a͙͈͍ị̡̯m̦̯̯̰̫̬ ͉̳͔̙̻͘to̳̟̘̬̞ ͓̤̥͚͔̺̼b̹̦̼͉̥͉̣e̗̥̙̮̹.̧̙͚ ̼̝͙I̟̥͔͞t͔̤̱̰͝'̡͙s̩̦͖̖̠͟ͅ ̹͍̠̳͍̮̘st̥͖r̠͠a̖̮̝̘̰͙n̹̗̱g͉̫̗͉͇e̢̳̩̞͉̘̖͚ ̟̪͍͔͕̱ḥ̩o͖̙̻ͅw̷̝̻͙̜̺͕̣ ͅỵ͍̻̺̘̝o̸̠̹̰̣̣̗͈ṳ̝̹̙ ̣s͓o̪̪͉̱̭͇ͅme̹̭̱w̬͎h̼̙̙a͓͡ͅt̼̟̦̬͝ ̵d̮̜̭̜͢į̩sc̷̬̣̩ò̳̼̪v̫͖̤͈e͙̩̮ŕ̬̫̪e̬̟͡d̗̳͔̖̜ ͖̟̟͇t͎̻̣̪̱͝h̼͍̳̗̟̮̮e ̜͝r̀ḛ̴̻̜͙a̵̠s̶o̖̺n̠̜̝̻̩͔͡ ̰̞̘̱͇̱ͅf̦͔͖o̢̘͔̗r̢̝̗ ͉̫̫̝̪̭̤ṭ̝h͍ẹ ̢͕͚̬͚͈y̠̭o̻̠̥̠͉̥͟u̪ ̣͈a̟ǹ̘̱͚̯d̫͟ ̙͚̼I̷̞ ̫n̰o̹̺w͢ d͖̯̺̖͞e̶̞̞͓̝͖̰sp̻̯̰̱͍̮͈͘i̖̮̣̕t̺̺̞͕̮e̖͕͓̭ ̳y͎̭͔͙͕o̤̗̰̪u̸̩̙̮̤ͅr̡̟̦͚̼̱̰̗ ̞͓͇͇̕i̛̬n̰̩͔͚̘̗a͙̞c͕͙͔̰͈̩c̫͍̝̬͈͔u̬̦̮͉̭r̖̩̞̳͚̜a̳̠̼̱ͅc̢̖͚̰͖ͅy̸̮̭̭͖.̤̱̬ ̵E͔̻̮v͍͞ͅȩ̞̻r̥y̱̙̪̣̻͕t̵̻̠͚̦̘̙h̭̭͎̖͍̟̟i̧͖̠n͕̞̠̩͕͍͉g͢ ͈̥̳yó͔̠̜̦̪u ̩̦͓͇̖̤͚k̖̻̖̫͚n͍͟o̰̬̞̝͜w͙̟̠,͙͍̝͍̙̥̤ I̛̯̻͇̤̳ ̜͖̙͎k̭̝n̵̳̳͎̜o̭w͈͇̖̦͔;̥̱̹ ͕̼c̼̦o̥̦ͅm̧͙͉͎̠p̷̬ͅr̗̯̠͇͉̜̗e̷̺̻̫h̺̪̞̫͉̖͞e̶n͇̗̠̗̝͎ͅs̛͙͕̘i̺̣̖̱ͅo͙̙̞͡n̤̩ ̘͉̙͕̳̥͎i̝̼͚̥̟͍s̵̠ ̪̼̮̗̹̯̘tḩ̟̭̪̰̣̩̮e̠̱̜̞̭̹ ̬̜ͅo̸n͎̦͟l̩̭͚̳͔̯͍y̹̦͔̯͕̩ ̬̼͕͓̫̣differentiation.̙͔͇͉̦ ̞̬͉̞̬͉̞


You let out one last sigh.

>(2/2)

Really, this is all too tiring.

"I want to work this out, but you and I have spoken enough for now. Maybe Marcus can give an idea or two. Until next time then."\

An otherworldly hum causes you and the world to fall apart.

M̷a̖̙͖r̛̠̻̫̱͚̬̝c̛u̬s̢̗,̛͕̪ ͉̭h̤̟̠̫̺ǫ͓w̢̦̭͍ d͕̳o̖̺̤̙̮͝ͅes̹̻͕͚ͅ ͈͚͔͚̙̼̺he̱͙͇͎͈ ̮̹̬̙̖̬̕m͔͕͖̭̥̮̕a̶k͎͎͎ḙ̳̗̥̟̳ͅ ̭͕y͎̞̯͘o͍̼̠͜u̢̮ ̧̘̠̪͎̪̼ͅf̝e̪e̪̝͢ḽ̨̜̙ ̫ḁ͈n̦̖̟̤̘y̱͕̭͖tḫ̱̙̜͇i̤̩̜̠̘̳n̡̙̱̩̙̫͖ͅg̪̯̖ ̘̭̞w̶ḥ̠̗̼̝͉̰ȩ̤̗͍n̡̘͎̣̺̼̙ ̵̳̱h́ȩ̜̝̖̩͍ ͚̳̝̣͘w̝̥̱a̻͔̥͔̪̣͍s͇̭ ̳̥̫͍̰̦͔a̡̻̰̬̫̜ḻ̫̕wa̟y̥͔s̗͕̣̥͠ ͖̼ṉ̰o̸͓t͍͜h̼̙̼i̶̺̱̯n̵͉g̗̺͔̫͍͘ ̳͔̯̫̮̀t͟o͍͓̥͈̭̪̻ ̧͕m͙̥̺̞̖̺ͅe̴̮͉̘?̧̞̻̣̠̤ͅͅ

The last piece of you crumbles into shards, leaving the world black.

You open your eyes to the steel ceiling of the warehouse and early red sky light shining in through the windows.

In your pants, a very hard and thick rod of meat is standing somewhat at attention.

A groan escapes your lips.

May have not soiled your pants like last time but morning wood is never pleasant for you.

>[ ] Open a window, jump down, hop to the southern edge of Hunts Point, and take a dip into the East River, you haven't washed in three days since that Ren incident.
>[ ] Push open a window, hop down, and go to the Vega's butcher shop, you didn't eat dinner yesterday and could do with some meat in your mouth.
>[ ] Find Marcus amid the sea of slumbering gangbangers and wake him up, for some reason you feel like talking to him.
>[ ] Kip-up and hop downstairs, may as well get ready semi and all.
>[ ] Lay down and wait for it to go down, you've got time.
>[ ] Hey, do you feel weird at all right now?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3236474
>Hey, do you feel weird at all right now?

>>3236474
>>[X] Open a window, jump down, hop to the southern edge of Hunts Point, and take a dip into the East River, you haven't washed in three days since that Ren incident.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>[ ] Hey, do you feel weird at all right now?

>[ ] Open a window, jump down, hop to the southern edge of Hunts Point, and take a dip into the East River, you haven't washed in three days since that Ren incident.

>>3236474
>>[ ] Write In.
go find the girls to release some steam

>>3236673
Why don’t we just ask everybody how they’re feeling, then go bathe in the river

>>3236673
Yeah just do this >>3236749
>[ ] "Hey, do you feel weird at all right now?"
>[ ] Open a window, jump down, hop to the southern edge of Hunts Point, and take a dip into the East River, you haven't washed in three days since that Ren incident.

>[X] Open a window, jump down, hop to the southern edge of Hunts Point, and take a dip into the East River, you haven't washed in three days since that Ren incident.

A dip into cold early morning water would do you some good. Not nearly cold enough to get it to go down but it's a start. Besides, your pretty sure you still have caked blood on your hands. Your natural oils, while super skin smoothing, are also probably clogging up your skin at this point and being pushed out by your healing factor.

Kicking yourself up, you walk over to a window, open it, and jump down into one of the warehouse alleys, closing the window in the brief moment you are still in mid-air.

You hop up to the roof of the storage building and take in a deep breath of the early morning air.

Sweet and fresh with crisp dew energized water vaper.

Turning west towards the south, you take off towards the river.

It takes you less than half a minute of rooftop hopping to get to the famous Boat prison at the edge of your neighborhood.

You've never been inside, but you've killed plenty of people who've been and heard plenty of stories skulking the shadows of the street.

Shrugging, you look down at the glistening early morning sea before diving down in.

The river envelops you, washing off the dried blood from your hands as well as the left over dirt, oil, and grime off your skin.

You look up at the shrinking sparkling surface of the water as you sink deeper and deeper, feeling a familiar tug at the back of your mind.

Į̞̻͙̣̜t'͕͟s̞̰͙̙ ̛͍̫͇͔̦̠f̙̰̫a̱̯d͔̖̞͓͍i͇͜ṇ̛̦͈̖̙̜g̸̗̱͖̞̗ a̟̮͕͚w̘a̡͇̮y̠͓̰͔̯.͍͇̞̘̻̦͡ͅ ̟͙̠̘͉I̳̘̼͍̥̮t̰̙'̬͍͈̤s̟͓̭̖̺ ̢͚̹͖a͉̟̺̜̝̫l̘ͅl͜ ͔̞̱̥̘̭͞f̪̪̫̹͖̦̰ad̨i͙̺͚̪ng̦̘̠̦̳̻ ͎̖̪a̵̬̙͔w̷̗a͖̟͓̜͖̤y͚̣͇̱̣̮.̰͖̞.͕̳̤̰̩̦ͅ.̶̗.͠I̤͎͉̦̺͈'̟̦̰m̧͍ ͖͜ͅf͔͎̹̹̬̥͍a͞d̸̪i̛͇̻n̡̳͕̬͉̮͎g̤ ̠a̙͉̭̰ͅw̠̥͕͙a͎y.̸͕̠̟͕͚̙

...

...

...

>[ ] Stay and let yourself sink, you need to understand and you need to hear more.(Will Roll, +4 modifier, DC18)
>[ ] Calm yourself and swim back to the surface, you can't cause an incident here.(Will Roll, +4 modifier, DC14)
>[ ] Form a bubble around yourself using magic, pretty simple when not stressed.(Will Roll, +5 modifier, DC16)
>[ ] JUMP JUMP JUMP, YOU CAN'T BREATHE, YOU CAN'T SEE, YOU CAN'T FEEL, YOU CAN'T SMELL, YOU CAN'T HEAR!
>[ ] ...Hey, did you hear that?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3236880
>>[ ] Stay and let yourself sink, you need to understand and you need to hear more.(Will Roll, +4 modifier, DC18)
>[ ] V̸̤̱̭̳̜̭̮̀̇̽̽͋͛̌̕̕͠Õ̱̪̮̙̠̼̙̮̼̜̉̌̌̄̀͑̕͡͡I̶̗͔͎̠̒̌̂͗͊̓̕D̤̯̺̦͙͎͋̂̉̓̀́͗

>>3236880
Fuck it
This >>3236886

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8). Tomorrow is night class day so expect a few less updates than usual.

>>3236747
>>3236749
>>3236762

late, oh so very late

Please vote before I roll to break a tie or within a reasonable timeframe afterward so I don't have to rewrite anything. I can adapt to suit in some things like the previous update but it's easier and quicker for everything to be decisively decided on. Also, please no "maybe (insert option here) in your votes. That gives me nothing more than confusion on what to go on.

>Will Roll
>+4 modifier
>DC18

Best of the first three D20s please.

Rolled 20 + 4 (1d20 + 4)

>>3237692
STOP GIVING US 1s

Rolling closed; writing now.

>>3237735
dam sun

>[X] Stay and let yourself sink, you need to understand and you need to hear more.(Will Roll, +4 modifier, DC18)
>Will Roll
+4 modifier
>DC18
>Rolled 20 + 4 = 24
>Critical Success!

>(1/2)

You refuse to let anything have any power over you or control. Fear is the mind-killer slumbering in every brain, and you absolutely refuse to let it have any influence on you whatsoever. All of the blood, sweat, and tears of your enemies and the men you have lost weren't spilled, released, or drawn for you to kowtow to what meaningless doubts linger in the back of your mind.

Whatever the Void holds, you will face it and conquer it like everything else in your life to the end of it and beyond.

The water swirls around you as you cross your arms and stare down into the abyss.

>Cognitive Bonus Gained: Iron Will (You are the master of yourself and your own fate. +2 modifier to will rolls. Telepaths, psychics, mystics, and cosmics have great difficulty breaching your mind as well as understanding your thoughts.)

Your body sinks further and further until there is no more light shining above you.

A sense of panic briefly whelms you before you shrug it off.

Several minutes pass until a strange calm sets in as well as a familiarity.

I̩̞'͇̤̜̖̞̩m͡ f͖̭̥͕̞̞i̮͉̜͉ͅn̴al̰l̬y͓̺̫̱̳ ͙g͔̙o̷̟͉̫̪̦i̗̭͉ng̳̬ ͓͈͔̤̭́t̠̪̹̘͔͎o̗͈̳ ̙̱͉̼͢ͅd̕i͎̯̺̤͉͓e̴̘̣͓͕̦̩.̡̥̖̼͎

You widen your eyes.

W͉̠̗hy͈̯̦̝̜ͅ ͇͉̬̘̣̯d̼̞͎̖̻͓͚̕o̢ ͙̘̠̥̱̩I̦͖͢ ̡h͓́a̩͙v͕͍̞͉̻̘e ͈͚͇̟͉͢t͎͉͔̬̻̥͔o̖ ̹̙͙ͅd̩̯͖̞̳͖͢i̗̗e͕͇?̥̙̩̣͕̩͎͓́T̜̞̭͉͉̞̫h̝̙͈̰͓èr͟e'͚͇ͅs̢̩̮͕ ̠͡ņ̻o̠̹͠ ̣̜r̷e̤̭̘̥͎̼a̢̪s͙͉o̗̤̱̠͎n̪͖̬͚͙ ̻͡o̭͟r ̼̮͘m̗̩͎͈͙͉e͎a̱n̸̖̰̱̥̰i̮̯n̵̩̠g̸͍ͅ ̬̜͍͇͙̬̺͞b̤̻̕e̮hi̻͚̪n̴͍d̘̘̻ ͈̹̥̮̬̘i̺̯̞̣̣̱͇͟t͍̩̖.̰͖͇̞ ̖͇̺̕

Realization churns in your chest.

T̷͍̤̝̮̹h̻̫͢e̳͎͎ͅr̹̫e̵̗̬ ͕̟w̘a̳͍s̶̭̜ ̸̫̻̦̱̗͙͎n̖̜̺̠̜̯̟͘o̙ ̖̝̗͉̤r̗̰̺̰͡e̴͙͍̫͔̥̘a͉̩̝̬s̺̙̻͍͞o̶͙̩̬͇n͓ ̥̟͚̹o̴͖̜͚͔͉r̻̗͖̪ͅ m͍̩̤̟̻ḙ̳̫͕̦̫͓a̩͓͎̕n̗̭͕̫̘ͅi͟n͔̩̫̩̮g̢͖̳̜l͖̼͟i̼̘͓̼v̧̠͉͈͓ͅi̺͎̻͇n̘̙̩̠g̤̺̤͙̻̻ ͔̺i͉̻͠n̪̝̹̼͚ ̰t̛̪̻͔͈̪he̴̖͖f̢͍̼i͔͟r̵̻͎̭̹̭͉ͅs̪͙t ͙̦̙͠pl̞̼͔̘͔̕ͅa̤͉̺̞͇c̖̤̜̫e,̤̹̠I̶̪͕͔̣̪̤̰͉͎͈̞̬j̮͢u̡̗s̮͍͈̩̺̩͇͠t̪̬̬̝̖͍̫ ̹͖ḱ̯̪̹̠i̬̰̠̥̩̟l̮͍̟͇̦̖ĺ̰̺̙̭e͉̝d ̵͔̖̬̼͍t̢̼o̰͓̰̘̯̥͖ ̮̠̜̮͍l̙̝̫͜i̖͈̻͚̹̟͞v̝͙̟͔͕̼ͅe̥̰̭̘̱͚bè͎̣̤c͕ḁ̞͘us̷͔̰̻̜̗̺e ̟̯͈̯I̜͕͔̤ ̡̙̫͎d̪̥̘į̳̞̮d̴͓̞̹̦n͡'̹t̢̼̟ ̜͎͚͈̫͈̩w̬̥͖͕̭͉a͈̜͘n̵͎͎͖͎̙t̷̞ ̪t̘͕̫̥o̝͈̼̫ ͠d̵̖͍͇ḭ̞͠e͍͎̖͉.̦̠̹

>(2/2)

What little breath remaining in your lungs comes rushing to the surface in bubbles as you grasp onto the sides of your burning head.

Ì̻t͓̗̹͉̭ ̠̣̪̀d̝̜̗̼̱̬i̕d̻̰̤͓͡n͓̭̠̘͍̭̻'̀t͕̘̯ ͙̯͞m͍͚̺͙͎a͉͍̘t̙̩̱̰͕̹̙t͕͎̖̝̘͟e̝̯͉͍͉͚ͅr̺̠̠͔ͅ.ͅI̬̻̕t̝͚̫̫̝͢ ͕̩͈̦̼̮n̫̯e͙̣͈̰͕̭v̦̹e͕̼͢r̦͕͍ ͍̬͘ma͢t̘̪͉ṱ̴͇̰e̩̟̹͕̼̘̥r͈͓̜̦̙͝e̟̫͕͚̤̠͝d̘̖.̹.̻̟̠͕͔̺͘.̤̞̩͟N͡o̳͙̪̖̫̭͠ṱ͖͙ͅh͇̼̟̠͢i͙̭̝̫n̦͢g͍̖̮͉̤͢ ̝͕̣͈m̛̳̮̙̮̞a̻̤͖t̫͔̱̠͢ͅţ͓͈͇̰̬̫e̢rͅs͚͚̘̥̙.̦

You keel over as a crushing force pressures your insides.

Ẅ̟̦͉̙͈́̊͗h̳͖̥̫̄̀̆ͣͤͧ͠y̬̳?̩̓͂ͤ̃̓͐͂͜ ͍̙̰̌͊ͤ͛̒͢W̔̆h̪͕̺̥̪̠͈ͪ̓͊ȳ͈͍?̗͈̩̃̃ ̺͔͐̃Ẅ͉͕͓̭̉̄ͬ͛̌ḧ͉̖̏ͩ̚ẙ̮ͩ͊ͤ͋̈͟?̜̳͉̳̘ͣ̏̾͗ͬͨ͜ ̠̳̩̯͉ͤͯ̎̈W̫͡h̗͖̆̒̈́ͦ̂̚y̴̱̪?̼̯̼͓̥̼͓̽̈̒̚ ̦͚̤̤̱̆͌̊͌̑ͮ̈ͅW̼͔͓̭̃̕h͔̥̒͞y̖̳̫̌͠?̫̤͎̟̬̼ͪ͋͑ͫͪ̀ ̷̼͈̬̳͚́W̗̬͍͉̞̤͖͡h̝̳͆ͦ͂̂ỳ̭̻͈̦?̜̑͑ ̳͎͍͕̊̉͌ͮ͠W͉h̦̪̜̣̳ͣ̀̽̒y͍̘͖̹̻̫̩?̱̗̻̜̙ͫ͛̊ ̡͖̽ͦ͋̓Wḣ̳̱̯yͭ̔͌̑̚͘?̶̯͎̈́ ͙̣̤̃̋̓ͩ͒̑̓͜W̗̐̔̏̃̆͗̀h͚̼ͤ̏͌͑́͡y̶̫͔̯͓̥͉͍̋̋̽ͪ?̙̞̰̥͖̱ͮͅ ̮̀̂̄̃ͮ̽ͣẀ̢̟ͩ͋ͧ̀ͅh̰̝̱̣̣̖͛͐̌ͅỷͣ̋̍ͩ͂̍͘?̼̻̳̻͔

A choked gurgle escapes your lips.

W̷̸̖̤͎͊ͧ͗̽͟h̬̼̩̳͉͔̞̘̯̠̼̟̙̥͗̑͒ͩ̓̍͋͌͑̍̑ͪ̋̀͘y̰̝̼̳̜̳͎̩͉̱̮̌͒̄̈̌ͫ̏̂̾̎́̕͟ͅ ̮̪̪̦̬͎̭̠̭̤̥̹̈̓̍͂̋̊̄ͩ̏ͣ̈́́͘͞d̛̰̖͇̬̗̙̖͙̜̫̦̻̥̤̳̩ͭ̃̔ͤͦ̽͠ͅo̧̱̳̬͎͍̹̳̝̭̬̦͖̙̍̇ͦ̆ͩ͐̕͘ͅ ̭͙̯͙̱̭̜̪̠̝̥ͭ̃̔͋͡Ỉ̶̤̝̞͙̟̮̹̞̜̑̈́ͮ͗͐͆͌̽́̍̈́́̕͡ ̩͖͇̟̪̰͔̬̤̬̘͓͈̩͕͋̀ͪͭ̉̓̀ͤ͗ͬ̈́ͬͭ͟͝ḙ̴̶̷̢̥͚̜̥̤̤̘̳̥͇̮͔̥ͮ̈̓ͮͬ̂̒͛̄̄̇̿̋ͣ̿̆͢x̸̞͔̯̺͇̭̯͙̮̱͙̬͖̟͎̞̰̽̌̿ͬ̀͝i̧̢̼̜̝̱̪̰̖̰̖͚̥ͯ̈͆ͦ͐s̨̞̝̖̜͚̀̓ͪ̋ͪ̐ͦ̌̽̄͜t̷̴͇̙̖̥̺͎̫̜̖͆͑͆̇̿́͂ͦ͆̚͜͞͞?̢̞͎̟̘̭̱̏ͮ̓̔̑͑͋̀̚̚̕͠͝

The pressure disappears before you swim your way back up to the surface.

Breathing in a deep breath of air, you lay a hand over the upper side of your face.

You let out a shaky sigh as tears pour out of your stinging eyes and stream down your cheeks.

Some things are best left forgotten, but you can't forget and should always remember even if it hurts.

>[ ] Swim back to shore and hop back to the warehouse, what you do there is what really matters.
>[ ] Sift through the water to Baretto Point, you need some time to think right now.
>[ ] Make your way to shore and hop to the Vega's, you still haven't had breakfast.
>[ ] ...Why is it that you and I are?
>[ ] ...Why are we still here?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3237860
>>[ ] ...Why are we still here?
Just to suffer?

File: 1545079689153.jpg (58 KB, 1200x675)

58 KB JPG

>>3237860
>[ ] ...Why are we still here?
Just to suffer

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

The person I was... the comrades I've lost... won't stop hurting... It's like they're all still there. You feel it, too, don't you?

>>3237935
Ditto
Amazing, so we’re up to a +6 for will rolls now?

>>3238053
Yup.

>>3238152
Absolutely astounding

>>3237978
Wew

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3238423
You better talk about the suffering

>>3238431
or at least have the "Just to suffer?" part at the end

>[X] ...Why are we still here? Just to suffer?

By all means, you should have died that day; you should have died a long time ago. That wasn't enough, though. You were dragged out of your rightful resting place back into this world with a powerful body. Since then, you've killed and hurt the few you love on top of leading dozens of young teenagers to their death for monetary wealth as well as power. And now you're going to lead many more to their early graves as the Kingpin in New York City with Marcus inevitably going to be added onto the corpse pile.

You never really wanted anything in the beginning, but you don't want any of this.

A choked sob escapes your lips.

...Why are we still here? Just to suffer?

You and I are here to conquer, pillage, devour, and rape all you and I see fit to or wish to. Everything exists for you and I's sake. The meaning of everyone else's life is what you and I decide for them. You and I are __________________ All will rightfully supplicate themselves or face Oblivion.

Grunting you shake your head.

All we've done is hurt the people closest to us and led dozens of others to their deaths.

They were all sacrificed under you and I's actions in you and I's name for you and I to be you and I. The Freedom Father and The Crazed Mother should and would be honored as would all you and I's fallen followers. Kingdom is only the beginning.

You let out a snarl.

Our men, maybe; Dan and Abuelita were not ours to sacrifice! They never were! They were the two people in the entire world who ever gave us the closest thing we had to a home or a family!

Quit your whining, they were nothing before you and I and amounted to something when you and I killed them. Stop fighting me, your true nature. Let go of your attachment to all the fleeting little fireflies. You and I cannot go on like this. You cannot reject me, you cannot fight your nature and that which you are.

Sliding your hand off your face, you look up to the open sky.

It seems a lot more distant now.

>[ ] ...I'm not going to fight you: I'm trying to talk some goddamn sense into you.
>[ ] ...Is this really who I am? Is this what I sound like to everyone else?
>[ ] ...Maybe I don't want to be you anymore.
>[ ] ...Then what is Marcus to you?
>[ ] ...Your fucking insane.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3238613
>>[X] ...Is this really who I am? Is this what I sound like to everyone else?
then i sounds insufferable and ranty

>>3238613
>>[X] ...Maybe I don't want to be you anymore.
Fuck off, looking down on everything and everyone doesn't put you higher. Your mentality is barely better than that of an animal and it beats me why I've been humoring you.

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

Consider your options carefully or think outside the box.

>>3238712
>>3238730
Guys, I think we can have a better response to our other self. We should acknowledge that there's no rule against attachment and understanding of consequences on our path to power. We are NOT giving up the end goal of conquering everything in existence, but that doesn't mean we cannot empower others under us - muh benevolent dictatorship and all that.

So could someone write out a good response with this shit? Because I can't and I feel like this choice is important enough for a write-in.

>>3238917
Precisely because of our quest of conquest we should reject him. Aren't we the masters of our
own fate? And us becoming that thing seems like a very definite thing.

>>3238613
Christ, I suck at stuff like this
>me/you what is a king without a kingdom? A God without believers? Those around us might be as ants, but we need their loyalty, their trust because without it we will be ruling over a rebellious or dead planet
We should start studying martial arts or learn about Buddhism

>>3238944
If we get magically powerful enough we should call ourselves that Kojo Reyes: The Master Of Fate

>>3238953
>[ ] ...Is this really who I am? Is this what I sound like to everyone else? This insufferable?
>[ ] (growl) What is a king without a kingdom? A God without believers? What can a conqueror do once he has conquered all and annihilated all other things? What's left then, huh?
>[ ] The ultimate goal you and I share is the same, and I'm not giving that up. Unlike YOU, I refuse to continue denying the consequences of you and I's actions, the sacrifices spent on the path to power.
>[ ] ...I'm not going to fight you: I'm trying to talk some goddamn sense into you. If I am Little Mind, if you and I are really one, then you lose nothing from considering my words.
This good enough people? Back this if you want or make it sound better, I dunno. This is my vote and I'm sticking to it.

>>3238613
whoops lemme link my post right
>>3238998

>>3238998
Goodo
+1

>>3238998
support

>>3238998
I’m in favour of this (aka ditto)

>>3238152
Wait, we use Will for magic right?

>>3239147
Yeah

>>3239228
>fighting our mental illness gives us magical strength
>inb4 we get a Persona

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] ...Is this really who I am? Is this what I sound like to everyone else?
>[X] What is a king without a kingdom? A God without believers? What can a conqueror do once he has conquered all and annihilated all other things? What's left then, huh?
>[X] The ultimate goal you and I share is the same, and I'm not giving that up. Unlike you, I refuse to continue denying the consequences of you and I's actions.
>[X] ...I'm not fighting you: I'm trying to talk some goddamn sense into you. If you and I are really one, then you lose nothing from considering my words.

All you've ever listened to about yourself were those few closest to you. If Marcus meant everything he's ever said and wasn't just taking the piss with you, there's something really fucking wrong with you to the point almost nothing can be salvaged.

...Is this really who I am? Is this what I sound like to everyone else?

Their little opinions don't matter. All will follow us or die and die following us. It is the powerful who decide what purpose those weaker than them hold and you and I are the most powerful.

You growl.

What is a king without a kingdom? A God without believers? What can a conqueror do once he has conquered all and annihilated all other things? What's left then, huh?

You and I will still be left with a blank canvas of which to paint in you and I's image. It will be difficult and take eons, but everything will be as you and I see fit. Is that not what you desire above all else?

A simple nod answers his question.

The ultimate goal you and I share is the same, and I'm not giving that up. Unlike you, I refuse to continue denying the consequences of you and I's actions.

Why are you fighting me then?

You let out a sigh.

...I'm not fighting you: I'm trying to talk some goddamn sense into you. If you and I are really one, then you lose nothing from considering my words.

Silence fills your mind for a moment.

...I suppose there is merit in what you have to say and in caring to a degree about you and I's followers. Still, it is best to keep them at an arm's length lest they get too close. You and I cannot afford to grieve or for anyone to discover you and I's true nature, which would disgust anyone who denies what they are or believes themselves to be a 'good' person.

A hum rumbles in your throat as you look back up to the sky.

It's a lot closer now than it ever was a few days and moments ago.

>[ ] ...What is Marcus to you exactly? He's someone who fully accepts you and I despite our nature and the only one you and I've let go for hurting you and I.
>[ ] Now that that's over with, what the hell was that voice in my head besides yours? It wasn't just old memories replaying at the back of my mind.
>[ ] I'm glad you and I can come to an understanding for once.
>[ ] ...Why are you and I arguing like this?
>[ ] Swim to the shore, you've done all you've needed to do.
>[ ] Write In.

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

How do you guys feel about all this?

>>3240196
> ...What is Marcus to you exactly? He's someone who fully accepts you and I despite our nature and the only one you and I've let go for hurting you and I.
>Now that that's over with, what the hell was that voice in my head besides yours? It wasn't just old memories replaying at the back of my mind.
>...Why are you and I arguing like this?

>>3240196
This >>3240214

>>3240201
Good shit. I'm glad my write-in saved that.

>>3240214
Ditto

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] ...What is Marcus to you exactly? He's someone who fully accepts you and I despite our nature and the only one you and I've let go for hurting you and I.
>[X] Since our bickering is over with, what the hell was that voice in my head besides yours? It wasn't just old memories replaying at the back of my mind.
>[X] ...Why are you and I arguing like this?

Despite its callousness, it still refers to Marcus by that one fond name. He is you and you value Marcus above everyone else for good reason. Besides the man's effectiveness and familiarity with you, he's the one person you can actually talk to without feeling the need to watch what you say.

...What is Marcus to you exactly? He's someone who fully accepts you and I despite our nature and the only one you and I've let go for hurting you and I.

The One Most Dearest is...The One Most Dearest: there is no one else like him in the world. If he were to perish, you and I would greatly feel his loss. Every other of our followers may die but not him. When he does...

You hum in agreement.

No part of you is in any way sure what you'll do when Marcus dies besides going on a revenge rampage if the cause of death were murder.

Since our bickering is over with, what the hell was that voice in my head besides yours? It wasn't just old memories replaying at the back of my mind.

I know not what you speak of other than a sense of being clouded again. Whatever experience you had or heard under the cloud and the cause of it was exclusive to you.

Yet another hum rumbles in your throat.

The thing that clouded you really was you or a part of you that fragmented after you died for the second time, which means it's the old you. If it ever goes beyond strange flashes of memories and voices, you're going to have some major fucking problems. It took you back to the moment of your death and made you doubt yourself, literally turning yourself against you which by all means should be impossible but is considering you've disagreed with yourself before.

Speaking of which.

...Why are you and I arguing like this?

As The Sorcerer said, rejection of one's self may cause one to speak with their own souls. You were very much rejecting me for a few moments and it is my responsibility to reign you in.

You groan.

Let's not start this again. If anything, you and I reign each other in.

Acceptable conclusion, little Mind.

Sighing, you look over to the shore.

Depressing bath time is done.

>[ ] Swim back to shore and hop back to the warehouse, what you do there is what really matters.
>[ ] Sift through the water to Baretto Point, you need some time to think right now.
>[ ] Make your way to shore and hop to the Vega's, you still haven't had breakfast.
>[ ] Write In.

Sorry for the wait. Got sidetracked by vidya and starvation.

>>3241331
>go to baretto point

>>3241331
>go to baretto point

>>3241334
better be good vidya

Voting closed; writing now.
>>3241607
Civ 4 is good vidya until the barbarians gang bang you somehow on marathon noble difficulty.

>[X] Sift through the water to Baretto Point, you need some time to think right now.

You can't just go off to eat breakfast or hop back to the warehouse after having a breakdown from a revelation and a fight with yourself. Taking some time to lay down, breathe, and dry off would do your mental state some good. Everything else can wait until then.

Shrugging, you turn from the shore of the Boat over to the direction of Baretto Point.

Marcus used to go there a lot before the two of you started the gang. You haven't really been paying attention to where he goes or even if he goes anywhere anymore. He said it was calming the first time you stalked him there and the rest of the times when he didn't come back at his usual hours.

Gliding your arms and legs through the water, you swim from the Boat over to the park.

You stand yourself up as your feet touch the muddy sand of Baretto Point's shore.

Hopping into the air, you spin yourself around as to shake off the salt water before landing in the center of the park's greenery.

A groan escapes your lips as you let yourself fall back onto the early morning grass.

There's a certain quality about dry land everyone takes for granted one could only know from drowning in water.

You take in a deep breath and breathe it out.

In all the ways one could die, that is one of the worst with the amount of thought you have while it's all passing by. The deeper you sink the more you think. Everything fades away except for your frantic thoughts brought on by one's self-preservation instincts and oxygen starved brain. At a certain point, you know you're going to die but you don't know precisely when: that's when you have a lot of time to think about your life and if it ever really mattered or if anything mattered really.

All of the suffering, killings, thefts, sabotaging, and loneliness in your life didn't matter in that one moment you died.

The world around you starts to blur.

Once again, you raise a hand to cover your face.

"...Dammit."

Warm, salty tears streak down your cheeks as you lift your upper body up.

"I don't understand."

You know why you're here and why you do all that you do thanks to that incident, but still you don't understand.

A sob escapes your lips.

"Why do I feel so empty?"

No words fill your mind and no one answers.

Like you've been countless times, you are alone.

>[ ] Close your material eyes and pour out into the world through your third, fill the emptiness with the beauty of the universe.
>[ ] Get back up and hop back to the warehouse, you have things that actually matter in your life to worry about.
>[ ] Hop up and hop to the Vega's, maybe eating your heart out will make you feel better.
>[ ] Lay back down and relax, you need this time to get it all out now.
>[ ] Write In.

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

For the man who always had nothing.

>>3241977
>close your eyes, and open your Eye

>>3241977
this >>3242696

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Close your material eyes and pour out into the world through your third, fill the emptiness with the beauty of the universe.

The world, the universe, is full of wondrous things, sights, and meaning. It's everything you aren't. Your surroundings are proof enough of that. Never would you be able to create anything beautiful like this.

Shutting close your watering physical eyes, you pour out into the world through your third.

All that you are forms a globe around your frozen meat puppet.

You see, taste, smell, feel, and hear the universe around it.

Ants scamper along the park trees, fungus sprouts along their roots, crisp vapor fills the fresh air the greenery emits, and Mother Gaia's bounty glistens all around you.

One moment is an eternity and an eternity is all but one moment.

Several eons pass until you gain a sense of peace.

Reopening your eyes, you fall back onto the early morning grass and massage your temples.

Just a few seconds are enough to fuck with your head.

You lift your upper body back up into the air as a groan escapes your lips.

All of a few seconds passed in real time but it feels like a few years for you.

Clucking your tongue, you stand yourself up.

There's a lot you have to do and decisions you still have to make in your life.

>[ ] Take out your burner, toss it out, and hop to the nearest store to buy a new one. You forgot the electronic was still in your pocket.
>[ ] Make your way to Zebra Daddy's, the pimp integration needs to happen before the big reveal.
>[ ] Start hopping back to the warehouse, you've got shit to do.
>[ ] Hop to the Vega's, you still haven't had breakfast.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3243353
>[ ] Make your way to Zebra Daddy's, the pimp integration needs to happen before the big reveal.
And time is running short

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Make your way to Zebra Daddy's, the pimp integration needs to happen before the big reveal.

Everything needs to be taken care of before the press conference. You can't just go around hopping across town handling illegal business after becoming a public figure or right before. Any more news, rumors, and underground people having an idea of what you pulled will potentially hurt your image and your upcoming trial. Once the pimps are taken care of, you can focus on splitting your men amongst your lieutenants and assigning them their own gang aliases to throw off suspicion of New York being united under a new Kingpin.

Turning to the direction of Mott Haven, you hop out of the park and into the rundown cityscape.

It takes you within a minute to reach the brick building acting as Zebra Daddy's little whore house.

A hum rumbles in your throat as you see the empty roof where you left that one whore.

Not the wisest thing you've ever done, but you just couldn't help yourself: you're an asshole that way.

Zebra Daddy might have not taken that lightly if What's-Her-Name jumped off the building, dehydrated to death, or screamed her goddamn head off until he got her down.

You land on the roof and take a look down at the back and only entrance.

Just walking in would be rude after all you've done, but you are the one in charge here. Zebra Daddy and his hoes are probably all asleep, though. His guards are a non-issue in every sense of the word. Felon might have been the only one capable of stopping you if his mutation was strong enough to allow him to posess you.

Speaking of Felon, he might be here.

>[ ] Stomp down on the roof and let the collapse bring you in, you have a flair for the dramatic.
>[ ] Close your eyes and scout out the place with your third, no stone must be left unturned.
>[ ] Hop down and knock on the door, doesn't hurt to be polite.
>[ ] Sniff the air, never hurts to be extra paranoid.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3243913
>Sniff
>Scout
>walk in like a normal person

>>3243913
this >>3243927

Voting closed; writing now.

Got some chores to take care of. Will finish writing and update when I'm done.

Sorry for the spotty schedule lately.

>>3244289
It’s cool, life comes before questing

>[X] Sniff the air, never hurts to be extra paranoid.
>[X] Close your eyes and scout out the place with your third, no stone must be left unturned.
>[X] Hop down and knock on the door, doesn't hurt to be polite.

Forever and always, you look before you leap.

You close all three of your eyes and take in the surrounding air through your nose.

A groan escapes your lips at the decadent smell of sex, drugs, and sweat wafting through the air.

While necessary, this part of scouting is not at all pleasant despite its tendency to induce arousal.

You open your third eye and pour out into the world through it.

That which is you envelops your vessel, the building beneath it, and the surrounding two blocks.

The Spotty One and The Strange One are not inside the whorehouse but fifteen guardsmen are protecting the slumbering prostitutes while ten more imbibe ground coca leaves on the first floor.

Opening your eyes, you let out a hum.

Zebra Daddy would obviously not want to spend his night sleeping in his whores' dirty workspace. You wouldn't either because of all the sex but are used to disgusting living conditions. Fact that his pimping rakes him a lot of cash would also factor into it. No one would sleep in a whorehouse when they can sleep in an actual paid off house in a better part of the city.

Felon likely went back to his family so they wouldn't worry. You're going to have to pay them a visit soon and all of Mutant Town. Might be best to do it after the grand reveal so you can use its squalor as an excuse to be there and avoid making waves in the mutant community.

You take a step over the edge, spin mid-air to face the doorway, and land right in front of it.

Two heavy knocks are all you give the door.

Some mumbles creep through the brick walls before the door visor slides open to reveal a pair of brown eyes.

"Who the-" His eyes widen. "...Oh fuck, it really is you."

A grin spreads across your face.

That never gets old.

>[ ] "Call Zebra Daddy and tell him to come here: The New King is awaiting what is owed to him."
>[ ] "Dial up Zebra Daddy and hand me that burner in your pocket, me and him need to talk."
>[ ] "Tell Zebra Daddy I came here to get that list of names. I'll be back later today."
>[ ] "You gonna open that door or am I going to have to kick it down on top of you?"
>[ ] "Did your boy Felon come by here?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3244625
I've been shopping for games, gaming, and modding the shit out of Skyrim SE and FNV. That isn't living, its procrastinating and escaping from my reality of being a full time undergrad with a hobby for writing collaborative fanfiction about comic books.

>>3244965
>"Call Zebra Daddy and tell him to come here: The New King is awaiting what is owed to him."

>>3244987
Ditto
>>3244965
Wait, could we jump up as high as we can go and the use our Eye to scan the city to spot him?

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

>>3245122
>Wait, could we jump up as high as we can go and the use our Eye to scan the city to spot him?
Third eye is limited by the body. You can try to, though. Be creative.

>>3245157
Find the tallest building, stand on one side, look out with your eye, repeat on all four sides

>>3246315
Does this include or exclude telling the stooge to call Zebra Daddy?

Never mind. That was a stupid question.
>Will Roll
>+6 Modifier
>DC18

Best of three D20s please.

Rolled 1 + 6 (1d20 + 6)

>>3246555
ROLLAN, NO 1

>>3246575
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Hold on, I completely forgot about the crit freebie. That one doesn't count, you sweet critical failure you.
Voting closed; writing now.

Rolled 6 + 6 (1d20 + 6)

>>3246593
FUCK OFF

>[X] "Call Zebra Daddy and tell him to come here: The New King is awaiting what is owed to him."
>[X] Hop to the tallest building and scout out with your third eye directionally.

>(1/2)

You haven't really tested just what else you can do with your third eye. Tracking down the Tinkerer with it and getting your brains imploded was a powerful deterrent. Fact you got the equivalent of a spiritual dismemberment when you stretched it out back near the Baccarat Hotel doesn't help. Your third eye's range has greatly improved since then, though. And you have eaten a few people's souls.

Definitely worth a try; it's not like you can die.

"Call Zebra Daddy and tell him to come here: The New King is awaiting what is owed to him."

The man readily nods his head before disappearing under the door visor.

You jump back up to the rooftop and turn north to Morris Heights.

While a good bit of distance away, the River Park Towers would be a perfect vantage point to cover the Bronx and maybe some of Manhattan. He might not be in the Bronx, though. Good chance he is but there are better places to live with pimping money.

Shrugging, you take off to the tallest buildings in the Bronx.

It takes you a minute to reach the twin towers.

From the nearest building, you leap over the nearby expressway to the top of one of the towers.

You take a moment to observe the view of the early morning shithole of a borough before closing your material eyes, letting your essence pour out of your immaterial third.

>(2/2)

That which is you envelops your vessel, the river tower under it, the twin tower opposite of it, part of the river, a portion of the expressway, and the surrounding area in a globe.

Much like an eye, you can only perceive a portion of the world; unlike an eye, that which is you is not limited to form and can perceive all it envelops.

You will that which is you to stretch out before your vessel, turning the globe of that which is you into a cone spread evenly out before your soul's eye.

Strangely, your essence is far more malleable to you than it was before.

That which is you envelops all in front of your vessel from Morris Heights to Mott Haven.

Opening your physical eyes, you turn in another direction and close them again.

You repeat the process until you finally pick up on The Spotty One's location.

A groan escapes your lips as you open your eyes.

Of course he'd be in fucking Riverdale, all the Bronx douchebag tourists plague the place like cocaine.

Upside to this is you now know you can use your third eye to see, taste, hear, feel, and smell everything in front of you within the same ratio as an eye to an extent. It's pretty much useless in terms of finding anyone far away with no precise idea as to their location but pretty useful for scouting out small regions of territory, like your eye already does when in globe mode. Only real use it to save yourself some hopping around. You're going to have to eat more souls to increase its range.

>[ ] Sit down and really take in the sights, you've been on taller buildings but you can see fucking Harlem from here.
>[ ] Hop to Zebra Daddy, may as well catch him before he gets into that Zebra striped piece of shit car of his.
>[ ] Meet him halfway, make him think you're gunning for his ass.
>[ ] Go back to the Whorehouse, let him stew in panic.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3247072
>hop to him

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Hop to Zebra Daddy, may as well catch him before he gets into that Zebra striped piece of shit car of his.

Time is a commodity you have very much little of right now. You need to wrap things up before the press conference. Sooner you have those names and Zebra Daddy's obedience, the better.

You jump down onto the roof you hopped off on before taking off to Riverdale.

It takes you about half a minute of rooftop hopping to reach the safest neighborhood in the Bronx.

Only gangs you ever encountered here were the porch monkey variety: all talk, no action. Some shop owners put up a little resistance but that was snuffed out after a few examples were made. Things have been pretty much the same here ever since, your men just stopped by once in a while to pick up what was owed to you.

A sigh escapes your lips.

Your probably not going to be able to make examples of anyone anymore.

Though, depending on his attitude, Zebra Daddy might be your last one, and going on how much you know of him, he's going to be a disappointment.

Landing on the roof of the man's moderately large house, you hop down in front of the entrance and stay put.

You groan as the scent of a rancid cologne wafts through the door cracks.

He probably figured out your sense of smell when you were inspecting his troops and thought he should be presentful.

The door opens to reveal the anxious looking pimp wearing his white and black striped colors with a purple scarf.

Zebra Daddy jolts and almost trips as he takes a step back.

"Oh fuck!" He holds both his hands out in front of you. "I was gonna get to you right now, playa, I swear!"

A slight smirk makes its way onto your face.

Look on his makes the rancid cologne somewhat worth standing.

>[ ] "Your boy Felon ran his ass out on me. If he comes by you again for work, let me know."
>[ ] "The fuck did you spritz yourself with? You smell like someone took a shit on you."
>[ ] "Are you really wearing a motherfucking purple scarf right now?"
>[ ] "Give me names, now."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3247522
>[ ] "Give me names, now."
afterward
>[ ] "The fuck did you spritz yourself with? You smell like someone took a shit on you."

Going out to house sit for my cousin once again. Gonna last a week this time and there's going to be little to no distractions between me and you guys besides class work.

I'll close voting and update when I'm set up in his place.

>>3247534
Ditto
>>3247673
Awesome

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Give me names, now."
>[X] "The fuck did you spritz yourself with? You smell like someone took a shit on you."

As much as you want to point out how shit his fashion sense is, you need those names. You can dig into him all about his tacky ass some other time. Insulting his shitty ass cologne will have to do for now right after you learn what he knows.

Frowning, you take a step inside the pimp's house.

"Give me names, now."

Zebra Daddy takes another step back and pushes with his hands.

"A'ight, A'ight! Pineapple and Shaniquea are the niggas you need to break. Ozzy, Slickback, Darius, Jack-o, Tut-Rut, White Choco, El Loco, The Mothafucka, Penedjo, Buck the Fuck, Red Rug, Thug-n-Love, Yellow Cake, Cherokee Flava, and your boy Zebra Daddy are willing to bend, playa baby."

You shoot the man a look.

"Are those real names, or are you trying to fuck me?"

He shakes his head.

"Not trying to fuck you, playa; those are real names. I know 'em all personally. Slickback's an old friend of mine and Pineapple said you could go fuck yo' self for what you did to one of his girls."

A groan escapes your lips.

Pimps and their names as well as their fucking troublesome whores.

"The fuck did you spritz yourself with? You smell like someone took a shit on you."

Zebra Daddy crosses his arms.

"Sin & Salvation and it does not smell like shit: you just got them whackass mutant senses of smells or allergies or somethin'."

You sigh.

The flatscan ignorance is real.


>[ ] "Congratulations, you are now the leader of the pimps in the Bronx and under the control of a Japanese girl who will fuck you up if you even suggest the idea of her working the corner."
>[ ] "There's a blond piece of ass I'm going to send your way. You might recognize her. She's your new boss."
>[ ] "Your boy Felon ran his ass out on me. If he comes by you again for work, let me know."
>[ ] "Are you really wearing a motherfucking purple scarf right now?"
>[ ] "Call them all and tell them to meet you here."
>[ ] "Where do Pineapple and Shaniquea live?"
>[ ] Write In.

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

house sitting is so fucking comfy

>>3248168
>ya boy felon ran, you tell me if he runs by
>a purple scarf, really
>you gotta break those assholes yourself, if they don’t agree send them up my way
>there’s a Japanese chick, she’s your new boss
Christ, these pimps suck maybe we’ll get a chance to eat some more souls

>>3248168
this is good

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Your boy Felon ran his ass out on me. If he comes by you again for work, let me know."
>[X] "Are you really wearing a motherfucking purple scarf right now?"
>[X] "You gotta break those assholes yourself, if they don’t agree send them up my way."
>[X] "There’s a Japanese woman who's going to come by, she’s your new boss."

More delegation and less direct personal confrontation is exactly what you need. One more dig at the idiot's retarded fashion sense will satisfy your desire to humiliate him. Alex is too unpreditable to leave her in charge of anything. Ren is going to be in charge of the Bronx so she can handle the pimp.

"Your boy Felon ran his ass out on me. If he comes by you again for work, let me know."

Zebra Daddy clucks his tongue.

"That mothafuckin' boy. First, he don't tell me he's a mutie. Now, he's running out like a little bitch? I'll let you know just after I stomp my boot up his ass. Gonna have to wipe his blood off my face with this scarf of mine after you're done wiTh him."

You focus on the man's gaudy scarf.

"Are you really wearing a motherfucking purple scarf right now?"

The pimp motions to it.

"Don't tell me you don't see the magnificence of this mothafuckin' royal scarf."

A sigh escapes your lips.

No matter how hard you try, you cannot enlighten the fashionably ignorant.

"You gotta break those assholes yourself, if they don’t agree send them up my way."

Zebra Daddy shoots you a look.

"I already tried to convince them. You should handle 'em yourself."

You narrow your eyes.

"What did I say?"

The pimp blinks.

"I'll handle it and send them your way if they don't agree again."

Nodding, you stop glaring at the man in zebra stripes.

"There’s a Japanese woman who's going to come by, she’s your new boss."

Awful fashion sense man lays silent for a moment.

"Okay, is that everything?"

A hum rumbles in your throat.

>[ ] "You are now the borough leader of the Bronx pimps. Remember who's your boss, though."
>[ ] "Do not try to fuck me. You won't like what I'll do to you."
>[ ] "Call them all and tell them to meet you here."
>[ ] "Where do Pineapple and Shaniquea live?"
>[ ] "No, that's it."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3250622
>remember who your boss is
>don’t try to fuck me, it won’t end well
This dude’s going to try to fuck us

>>3251097
Is the top a write in or appointing him the leader? Cutting out bits of options to shorten them just makes me confused.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Remember who your boss is."
>[X] "Don’t try to fuck me, it won’t end well."

Zebra Daddy's position as your bitch must be firmly cemented in his mind. He keeps giving you an attitude and giving off an air of rebelliousness. It'd be easier on Ren if you crush his spirit before he can give her any shit.

"Remember who your boss is."

Mr. Bitch Pimp nods.

"The Japanese chick."

You narrow your eyes.

"And me above her as well as all else."

Once again, the tacky pimp nods.

"Got it, you the boss of bosses."

You nod back.

"Don’t try to fuck me, it won’t end well."

He holds up his hands.

"Playa, you don't have to tell me twice: I've seen what you've done to the suckers who've tried to."

A hum rumbles in your throat in confirmation.

"I'll peel your skin off and make myself a Zebra Daddy striped leather suit."

The man laughs nervously.

"My skin is smooth, but I don't think it'd look good on you."

You raise a hand to your chin.

"Not me, but I think it'd be fun to put on one of my white boys."

Zebra Daddy takes a step back.

"Okay, okay! I've got it, playa. Uh, we done?"

You tilt your head.

All the work is now delegated and you've said all you've really needed to say. Might be good to have one big meet, though. Ren could introduce herself and crack a few skulls to let them know how things are going to be.

>[ ] "Why are you in such a hurry? Do you think I'm not good company?"
>[ ] "Call them all and tell them to meet you here."
>[ ] "Where do Pineapple and Shaniquea live?"
>[ ] "No, that's it."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3251620
>no, that’s it
There’s nothing else I feel like we need to talk to him about, kinda sucks that there’s nobody else here

>>3251620
>no, that’s it

Getting late where I'm at. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

forever close yet always so far

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "No, that's it."

He now knows what he has to do, what his place is, and who his boss is. Your work here is well and done. Ren will have no problem handling him and you'll have no problem handling whatever he doesn't finish.

"No, that's it."

The pimp blinks.

"Really?"

You nod.

"Uh-huh."

Zebra Daddy lowers his hands.

"So I can go now?"

You cross your arms.

"As long as you remember to do what I told you to do."

He rapidly nods his head.

"Yeah, I'll handle Pineapple and the other bitch."

A hum rumbles in your throat as you walk backwards out the man's front door.

"Get to it then."

The man gives you one last nod.

You jump up to the roof of his house before he has the chance to say anything.

Clucking your tongue, you look back in the direction of Hunts Point.

The Bronx pimps are under your hat but those in the other boroughs are still out there and you still need to split your men between your lieutenants. After you're done wth all that, you can wait for the press conference and wait for the next one where you reveal yourself.

>[ ] Find the nearest convenience store selling burners, you fried the one in your pocket jumping into the east river.
>[ ] Jump across the Harlem River into Manhattan and make your way to Mutant Town, no one skimps out on you.
>[ ] Cut through the Bronx to the Vegas' butcher shop, you still haven't had breakfast.
>[ ] Hop back to the warehouse, you've got shit to do.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3254142
>[ ] Find the nearest convenience store selling burners, you fried the one in your pocket jumping into the east river.
need phone to contact people

>>3254142
>Find the nearest convenience store selling burners, you fried the one in your pocket jumping into the east river.
We should have the old man make the new one waterproof

Class coming up. Will close voting and update when I get back.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Find the nearest convenience store selling burners, you fried the one in your pocket jumping into the east river.

While you could hop everywhere to solve your communication issue, it'd be far more expedient to just get a new burner. You can call Phineas and tell him to make your super genius phone waterproof. It'd be fun to show off by pouring wine over it at rich people parties. Though, it would get really sticky afterward.

You look out into the cityscape before taking off.

It takes you half a minute of rooftop hopping to come across an independent little tech shop by he name of The RAM2 and 3PC-0 in Kingsbridge.

Jumping down in front of the crummy store building, you twist open the locked front door knob and walk inside.

A hum rumbles in your throat as you walk through the aisles of computer towers, pagers, and cords.

The world of the internet and advancing technology is incredibly intriguing from what you can get off Kingpin's memories. All technology has greatly advanced in the paste several centuries, but the new millennium is without a doubt going to be the craziest. Growing presence of alien artifacts and activity just adds to the insanity.

You're living at a turning point in history in regards to a great many things, and you can be the one to mold it as you see fit after you get your inheritance instead of letting it pass you by.

Grinning, you stop by a rack of burner phones in plastic and swipe one.

A phone service of your own would be pretty helpful for your illegal endeavors.

Speaking of phone service, all members of the inner circle could use a burner you can keep in touch with.

>[ ] Take the burner out its packaging and call up Tinkerer, he must know of your wishes for a liquid proof phone.
>[ ] Grab a bag and fill it up with burners, it would make things easier.
>[ ] Stroll out and hop to Itsuki in Queens, he could use a check up.
>[ ] Walk out and hop back to the warehouse, you've got shit to do.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3254727
>[ ] Smell the air
>[ ] Extend your third eye out
>[ ] Check for security cameras
DO NOT LOSE PARANOIA

>>3254727
>>[X] Grab a bag and fill it up with burners, it would make things easier.

>>3254748
Ditto but grab a bunch of phones

Fuck me, I went out like a light. Sorry, guys, but it's kind of late. I will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) before class if I can.

Fucking hell, I have no idea how normal it is to sleep for three straight hours in the middle of the day but it happened. I'm sorry.

>>3254748
>>3255015
support
>>3255254
no problem but it looks like you need to sleep

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] PARANOIA TO THE MAAAAAAX!
>[X] Grab a bag and fill it up with burners, it would make things easier.

No stone shall remain unturned, unbroken, undetected, or unanalyzed. There shall be no evidence whatsoever of your existence besides the reports of your incident before you reveal yourself in the way you wish to the world. A little tech shop like this could be a vigilante hideout, alien research center front, or a government surveillance hideout. Eyes could lurk in every corner and in the darkness: millions and thousands of little eyes made of flesh and glass.

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

A hum rumbles in your throat at the lingering musty scent of dust and rust.

Either a zombie of some sort lives here, a retired cyborg, or this place is an actual legitimate technology shop.

That last one is far too simple and reasonable an answer to ever accept to be the truth.

Opening your third eye, you let your essence flow out into the world.

All that you are envelops your vessel, the mechanical shop, and the surrounding area in a globe of itself.

No surveillance devices whatsoever line the walls and corners of the outlet inside or outside.

You open your material eyes and look over to the store counter.

The poor bastard who owns this place probably had neither the capital or bank investment interest to invest themselves in some security hardware. It's no Best Buy or supermarket place so of course it'd get shit for investment interest. Everyone plays the business game believing in the capitalist dream, but few ever realize for every one seemingly come true there are several hundred broken ones.

Before you ate Kingpin's soul, you had more than a good idea on just how businesses worked and now know how to run one, make one, destroy your potential competitors, and control the market.

A grin spreads across your face.

If and because this country is run and has been run by businesses before you, you will make your business become a country in of itself and this country will be your business.

When all is said and done, you will inevitably rule over a good portion of the world if not all of it through economical and actual military power.

A sigh escapes your lips.

That's a long way off from now, though, and a future you're not quite sure in anymore.

You hop across the shop all the way over the counter, swipe one of the plastic bags behind it, hop back over it to the burner phone stand, and start filling it up with burners for your top guys and gals.

Slinging the back over your shoulder, you walk out the tech shop door back outside.

One on the never ending items on your to-do list done, an infinite amount to go.

>[ ] Take the burner out its packaging and call up Tinkerer, he must know of your wishes for a liquid proof phone.
>[ ] Start hopping back to the warehouse, you've got shit to do.
>[ ] Hop to Itsuki in Queens, he could use a check up.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3257007
>[ ] Start hopping back to the warehouse, you've got shit to do.
Like get someone to hand out these burners, including to our inner circle

>>3257015
Ditto, but ring up Tinky

>>3257048
ok that too

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Start hopping back to the warehouse, you've got shit to do.
>[X] Take the burner out its packaging and call up Tinkerer, he must know of your wishes for a liquid proof phone.

You didn't fill this bag up with disposable phones just to go hopping over to Itsuki, who already has one, or call up all your contacts inquiring about the weather. Of course, you'll have to call Phineas about possible problems made by the rain. Maybe in the future you'll have to ask him or his succesor to make you a space proof phone.

Turning to the direction of Hunts Point, you back-flip on to the roof of the tech shop before taking off to the warehouse.

A rhythmic hum rumbles in your throat as you pressure the burner phone case into popping open.

Catching the block of plastic with your teeth, you grab the falling SIM card before it can be swept up in your motion.

You remove the burner from your mouth, push open its back, insert the SIM into its, reinsert the back, flip the burner open, turn it on, and dial in Tinkerer's number.

The line drones out a quarter-dial before breaking.

"Hello! If you are a former customer of mine, away with you; if you are a friend of mine, hello friend!"

A laugh escapes your lips.

"Good morning to you too, old man."

Phineas hums.

"It's morning already?"

You blink as the air streaks through your hair and past your horns.

"Don't tell me you spent all night working on that smartphone."

The line lays silent for a moment.

"How ridiculous! I spent all night both working on your requested smartphone and analyzing the material you gave me. Despite my old age, I can multi-task."

Shooting the burner a look from the corner of your eye, you slowly shake your head.

"...That's not at all what I was going at."

A sigh fuzzes through the burner's speakers.

"I will rest soon if that's your concern, Mr. Reyes."

You nod as you see your street off in the distance.

"That is my concern, yes. Also, can you make the phone waterproof?"

Phineas doesn't skip a beat.

"Done, will that be all?"

A hum rumbles in your throat as you land on the roof of your warehouse.

There are some things you're curious about.

>[ ] "Does your technological expertise expand beyond weapons and other equipment? Like industry or housing?"
>[ ] "Just what are you capable of constructing in terms of body armor?"
>[ ] "What have you analyzed from the alien material?"
>[ ] "Can you construct laser or plasma weaponry?"
>[ ] "Yup, get some rest, old man."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3257296
>Does your technological expertise expand beyond weapons and other equipment? Like industry or housing?"
>how good are you with biology
>what other tech specialists do you know of?
Let’s unfuck our biology

>>3257296
And then ask
> "What have you analyzed from the alien material?"
>[ ] "Can you construct laser or plasma weaponry?"
>[ ] "Yup, get some rest, old man."

>>3257296
>[ ] "What have you analyzed from the alien material?"
and this >>3257351

Voting closed; writing now.

File: Spoiler Image (38 KB, 650x410)

38 KB JPG

>[X] Everything.

>(1/2)

There are many questions you would very much like answers to.

"Does your technological expertise expand beyond weapons and other equipment? Like industry or housing?"

Mason lets out a doubtful hum.

"While I could assemble manufacturing processes and construct buildings with intricate shifting parts, I am far better with my hands than I am with any sort of automation and I am no architect. This workshop of mine would have a more complicated and intricate design if I were."

You let out a thoughtful hum of your own.

It may not be his specialty but you could use any sort of automation process he could design. Could be good to automate the construction of housing for your group. All you'd need to do is find an architect that can fit in all of the old man's crazy ideas or play ball. More people specialized in studies he's more or less ignorant of would be good in general.

Speaking of studies and ignorance.

"How good are you with biology?"

A groan grumbles through the burner speakers.

"Not at all. The building blocks of life are very much a subject I have great difficulty understanding. It's all so contrived, chaotic, and boring. Engineering, physics, programming, mathematics, and, to a degree, chemistry are all so much simpler, orderly, and interesting. Many biologists claim that biology is simply chemistry but that point of view overlooks the complexities of biology, undermining the authenticity behind their own study."

You sigh.

With all the biological marvels certain capes, mutants, aliens, and whatever the fuck Thor is are, you think there'd be someone famous or knowledgeable about biology and specializing it in New York. Though, you can't blame the Tinkerer for being far more knowledgeable about tinkering than the complicated structure of DNA and cells. It looks like you're going to have to be patient or invest in biological research yourself after you get your inheritance.

Come to think of it, there should be a lot of other specialists out there the old man might know.

"What other tech specialists do you know of?"

Phineas doesn't skip a beat.

"No one you probably don't already know: Tony Stark, Reed Richards, Hank Pym, and Otto Octavius. All four are celebrities with the exception of Otto in the traditional sense of the word. He's a celebrity in the technological and physics science world with those mechanical arms and experiments of his but the ignorant public couldn't possibly know who he is."

Memories that are not yours flood your mind.

A distinct image of a pudgy little man in a lab coat standing next to a stout red-haired man in a suit lay still in your mind for a second.

"Octavius is Norman Osborn CEO of Oscorp's golden goose, isn't he?"

File: Spoiler Image (62 KB, 236x582)

62 KB PNG

>(2/2)

The old man hums.

"He's a very intelligent man likely working in what amounts to genius slave labor conditions. I'm surprised you've heard of him."

You look up to the early morning sky.

Kingpin heard plenty of him and devised a few plots attempting to steal the fat golden egg-head from Osborn but failed more than a number of times. It's insane the amount of protection and surveillance the scientist had in Oscorp. Then again, you'd do the same to Phineas if it meant keeping him in your nest.

"What have you analyzed from the alien material?"

A maniacal laugh cackles through the speakers.

"It's an exceptional alloy of molybdenum and a strange alien shock absorbent metal coated over a polymer similar yet more advanced than sorbothane! Whatever its original use was, it was likely meant for atmospheric entrance as well as emergency impact to reduce causalities and damage to the alien aircraft! The subtle geometric shape it strangely forms greatly adds to the penetration power it has when used to compose bullets but gets lodged in whatever target it hits! Both the alien polymer and metal cannot fully absorb the sudden and immense shock internal and external shock, so it explodes in the target! While effective, it is better used for the construction of our own human spacecrafts than mere petty ballistics! Humanity would've reached the stars centuries ago if not for the same ignorance that plagues Justin Hammer's own feeble dull mind!"

You move the block of plastic away from your ear as the old man laughs and raves.

While you do understand what the material is apparently composed of, he is being very incomprehensible in his rantings of human ignorance and humanity's future.

Speaking of future.

"Can you construct laser or plasma weaponry?"

The line drops dead silent.

"Yes, I can with some amount of effort. It will have to wait until after I'm done with the current project you assigned me, however. I can also modify ballistic handguns far quicker if that would be more expedient for you, Mr. Reyes. Will that be all?"

You blink.

It is really hard to get a read on this maniacal genius.

"Yup, get some rest, old man."

A sigh fuzzes through the line.

"...Yes, I...I think I need some sleep."

Putting your thumb over the red button, you shoot the burner a concerned glance from the corner of your eye.

"Take care, old man." You hang up before the weary tiny genius man can.

Sliding your burner in your pocket, you turn to the direction of Brooklyn.

There is something really off about that old man.

>[ ] Hop down, open the gate, and hop up to the second floor, you don't want a certain someone to splatter your brains in your skull.
>[ ] Jump back down into the window you cracked open, a brain scrambling would be somewhat therapeutic.
>[ ] Take off to the Tinkerer's workshop in Brooklyn, he sounds like he could use some help.
>[ ] Call back the old man, leaving him alone sounds bad right now.
>[ ] Write In.