Life Hacks/Godmode/Ubergod
You sit down on a crate to ponder the situation before making a decision. It's a rather large one, and it deserves a bit of thought. Cora sees the situation, and comes over, climbing into your lap. You absentmindedly put your arm around her in support. For a moment she seems like she's about to say something, but holds her tongue. You only notice this in a very cursory manner as almost the entirety of your now vast intellect is focused on developing a narrative powerful enough to form a religion.
You know that with the level of Catholicism that the Holiday's follow, being the Second Coming of Christ is as good as a free pass to breed Mrs. Holiday and her daughters (and get anything else you want out of them). Additionally, as an active religion it would give you a huge power base right from the start. There is Loki, however . . . he was the one that started you on the path that lead you to becoming a god. If you presented yourself as a Norse god, that would guide people back toward the old gods, giving Loki back a degree of his former power through the worship of a new generation. You don't want to be held back by the old belief systems, however. You want to be your own man . . . your own god. There has to be a way to consolidate these seemingly disparate concepts.
You run through the concepts in your mind until you have the start of the religion firmly in mind. You want to get right to the good stuff, so you figure that you can just come up with the basics, and stay flexible for the time being. You can fill in a lot of the details as you go. Finally formed you look down at Cora sitting on your lap. With a thought you strip away the cursed part of her nature as well as the dread she projected, and simultaneously filled her mana charge.
"I think it's time to present myself to the world, Cora."
She clasps her hands together enthusiastically. "That's wonderful, Master," she exclaims, then looks you up and down. "Are you going to change first?"
You look down at your fashion-backward apparel. "Yes, of course. This won't do at all." In a flash you are wearing a perfectly tailored, pristine, white, silk suit; white, Italian, patent leather shoes; a state of the art smart watch; and carrying a top of the line smartphone, custom wallet, along with plenty of cash and credit cards. "That's better," you say, then turn to Cora again. "Shall we take our places?
"You bet, master!" she says, dashing to her original position. "Ready when you are, master."
"You can call me Xander, Cora," you reply as you get into position yourself.
"I could never do that," she says in an astonished voice, "you are my master!"
You sigh, and restart time with a flash of light. You let the flash fade, leaving a glowing halo around your flowing blonde hair. You already had the white Jesus look to some degree anyway; but the suit and the halo should push things over the edge. You turn and look at the Holiday clan to gauge the effect your drama had on them.
They stand stock still to the last member with their mouths gaping open staring in wonder at the spectacle you've given them. It is beyond anything you've ever seen before. They are completely transfixed, as though their minds can't process what their eyes are seeing. You wait for a bit, but their awe seems to be . . . well . . . stuck. Maybe you need to jolt them out of it.
"Um, guys," you say, "I know this is a lot to take in." Nothing. "I . . . um . . . something happened. With the doll. Just now." They still stand transfixed. "Hello? March? Jan? July? Kids? Anyone?"
Hearing his name seems to jolt March out of it first. "Uh Xander, what . . . um . . . what just happened?"
Finally. "Well," you say as casually as you can, "apparently I'm a god . . . the second Coming of Christ actually. It's sort of . . . we'll it's complicated."
"You," says March, "you're Jesus? You're God made flesh?"
"Apparently," you say. "And at the same time . . . I'm actually a Norse god . . . go figure."
"Wait . . . you can't be Norse and Jesus. That doesn't track."
"I said it was complicated," you reply. "So apparently the god they call God, Jehovah, the Big Guy . . . my original dad . . . apparently he is actually the son of the Norse god Loki."
"God . . . is the Norse trickster's son?"
"Yeah," you say, starting to doubt your own story now that you say it out loud, "he broke away to form his own religion when the other gods wouldn't accept him and his message that the gods should serve man and not the other way around. When he did he stole the golden apples from the other gods which ended up putting them all to sleep. That ended the age of magic, and left him the only god. Unfortunately, he forgot his own message, and became greedy for more power in the form of worship. When he started to lose power from people straying from him; he created a son to bring them back . . . me. It didn't work as he planned though. The people who believed in my message gave power to me and not him. He tricked me and sealed me away for nearly two millennia, siphoning my power for himself; but my grandfather Loki found me, and allowed me to come back in mortal form. He left magical triggers like this doll to awaken me spread throughout the world . . . and I have awoken. Now Jehovah will try to take back his power, for it flows into me once more."
"That . . . wow," says March as he sits on the very crate you were sitting on a moment ago. "That's a lot to take in."
"Yeah," says Jan, "God is real . . . and he's a prick? That's a lot to process."
"Don't you see that's why the old and new testament are so different. The old testament is Jehovah's message, the new testament is mine. Peace, love, forgiveness . . . these are my dogma. Duty, fear, authority . . . those are His. Unfortunately, the religion named after me, Christianity, is a combination of both."
"Okay, so I saw it with my own eyes," says March, "so I have no choice but to believe it. Where do we go from here?"
As the Holidays look on in wonder it occurs to you that March's question is a very good one . . .
Where do we go from here?
Infinity Pocket, Black Hack, Others?
Xander controls the local area.
