Murdersphere Mosaic [ManXMan] [BoyXBoy]

Chapter 6 Part 2 Some of My Best Friends Are... Oh wait.

That night, I have a nightmare about the city flooding because the Wall was blasted open, because of me and my one man campaign to find Mojo's base of operations in the city; a campaign that SHIELD should be a apart of. I have not run into a single undercover SHIELD agent, or NYPD officer, even in the street gangs.

My eyes snap open. The smooth expanse of Carnifax's shoulder immediately visible as he sleeps next to me.

"Immersion." I think. "That has to be the answer right? Why do I care so much?"

My response to myself is immediate. "Because I am the one to suffered to get this face and the idea of anyone else using it, especially for crime, makes me crazy."

My post BSM issues with identity have been magnified by these duplicates.  I've been surging along on my own not really giving a damn about Mutant Town as explosions and violence follows every one of my appearances. I am not even broken up about the gang war that almost started. If I had run from the last exploding dupe instead of dealing with him, would I feel just as empty about the flooding of that part of the city?

I do not think so at first, but I am siezed by a mounting anxiety when I think about that kind of destruction.  But, when I think about Mutant Town, I feel derision, distrust. I do not care what happens to them.

I am anti-mutant and I do not know why. I retain the distrust of SHIELD and The Avengers I arrived on set with, but the anti-mutant feeling, the incredibly dangerous anti-mutant feeling is new.

I wonder why the immersion field vilifies that subsection of Talent so?

The next morning, as soon as Carnifax leaves for work, I dress up in grey sweats, grey hoodie, skull cap and my big mirror shades and I head into Mutant Town and I start reading people, looking for the immersion interaction point in their consciousness where who they are vs who they are told/believe they are should be.

Everyone with obvious egregious mutations who I read in my first morning of circulating did not have any mental evidence of being Talent.

Maybe two-thirds of those with no visible mutations, or subtle, or stylish mutations were Talent, and they looked down on the heavily mutated around them too.

I decide to take a week to conduct a telepathic survey of Mutant Town, even sneaking into the sector towers and the slums they contain.

There are two incidents where I run into duplicates of me who sense my telepathic sweep and spontaneously destruct. They do not even have control of the reaction. They are so sudden, the shockwave were already flowing around me when I sense them. People are injured, killed in the aftermath, and I don't care. I strongly dislike that I do not care.

I make up my mind to stop coming to Mutant Town. I think I have what I need anyway and I am starting to feel a psychological distortion form as I defy the imperative to "hate" mutants.

I go home, changing in a subway bathroom to change clothes several stops away from my neighborhood. I wore one of the USA t-shirts and jeans under the sweats. I disintegrate the sweats so I won't be seen carrying them, and stuff the mirror-shades and skull cap into my pocket. I cover my hair with a bill cap and slip on my wayfarers.

I detour to buy something nice for us to eat and mull over the last two days and my apparent ethnic sociopathy on my way home.

I spend the next two days going to cinemas. I need to not feel like a murdering bastard and I need to stay as far from mutants as possible.

A few nights later, out of the blue, Carnifax asks me about myself. We had been "together" for nearly a month and he never really asked about me verbally or telepathically.