Gwyndolin huffed and sprawled himself over a couch he had relocated to an abandoned warehouse, glad that nobody was present to witness his unrefined behavior. David had found this building while wandering aimlessly around the city, as seemed to be his habit, and was glad to assist Gwyndolin in occupying it. According to David, his grandfather was unlikely to notice his couch had disappeared, or care even if he did.
Gwyndolin was not quite sure what to do with his idle time. After teleporting away with David, he had waited patiently as the child had reenacted his fight—with inaccurate sound effects—until the boy had grown tired and stated his intention to return home.
Before leaving, the child had been kind enough to lead him to a building he could use for shelter. He then expressed his intention to aid Gwyndolin with "superhero stuff", to his relief and shame.
He had thought that his plan to acquire currency through teleportation-assisted deliveries was a good plan, but apparently not.
What kind of world required mere couriers to present identification?
Gwyndolin was ashamed to admit it, but he needed help if he wished to successfully integrate into this world. Doing so alone would require him to either invest significant time and effort or immoral usages of his magic he did not wish to resort to.
David should be arriving soon after finishing his daily attendance at "school", a location where education was offered freely to children across the land. Truly, this world continued to surprise him with its opulence.
Gwyndolin had been concerned that David's grandfather would notice the child's absence, but according to David, he already spent little time at home, and his guardian scarcely noticed. This made sense to Gwyndolin. In his experience, adult men rarely concerned themselves with the affairs of children as long as they remained unbothered.
His eldest brother, Gwynhael, had ceaselessly mocked him for his "womanly nature" when he discovered Gwyndolin's sponsorship of the city orphanage. He had always disagreed with father's decision to raise Gwyndolin as a woman; he had disagreed with father about a great many things.
Gwyndolin was distracted from his spiraling thoughts when he felt a presence at the edge of his senses approaching the abandoned building. Gwyndolin relaxed as he tasted the distinct flavor of David's magic seconds before the boy came running into the building as fast as his tiny mortal feet could take him.
"Hey, Mr. Superhero. Look, look, they're talking about you on the news," said David the moment he entered the building. He was holding up and presenting one of the small devices Gwyndolin had seen many of the mortals entranced by.
Gwyndolin blinked in surprise as the device displayed two mortals speaking to him from behind a screen.
"Greetings, who art thou?" Gwyndolin asked the mortals politely.
This tool must be a magical device that allowed for mortals to communicate over long distances. Gwyndolin assumed that David must have received it from his grandfather, but who were these people the child wished for him to meet?
"No! What are you doing?" David asked, baffled. "I thought aliens were supposed to have better technology than us."
Gwyndolin conjured an illusion to hide his flushed embarrassment, a habit he had formed as a child after failing to learn how to hide his expression.
"Thou hast mine apologizes, David. I fail to understand thine object's purpose."
"It's called a phone," David explained with great tolerance. "These people can't hear you. It's a recording. They reported the news somewhere else this morning and now we can watch it on my phone."
Gwyndolin was not certain he perfectly understood, but he was unwilling to ask for further clarification.
He gathered from context that these people were responsible for announcing recent tidings to the city's citizenry, and they were displayed by the device… somehow. With no further insight presenting itself, Gwyndolin indicated to David his readiness to watch whatever it was he wanted to show him.
After a moment of fiddling, the device began to make noise and display a symbol that read as MiamiNews before resolving into two professional looking mortals.
"Good morning Miami. Today is September 8th, 2003 and you're watching the Miami News. I'm Harold Moffet," said the male middle-aged mortal.
"And I'm Margaret Carle," said the younger female mortal.
"Today, we start with our leading story. Does Miami City have its very own superhero?" said Harold, "Reports are coming in of a snake-themed vigilante interrupting a battle between local gangs down by the docks."
"According to witnesses, fighting began late last night between the Miami branch of the Escabado Cartel and the Medusa Syndicate in a busy parking lot near the docks," said Margaret, continuing where her partner left off. "Police failed to respond to the violence for nearly twenty minutes before the suspected vigilante intervened."
"No video evidence of the supposed vigilante has been found, but they are described by one witness as a 'tall bow-wielding, snake-legged individual of indeterminate gender,'" said Harold, his tone colored by only slight disbelief.
Gwyndolin idly wondered why the two people were taking turns speaking.
"Miami Police Chief Pablo Perez strongly denounced vigilantism this morning, citing the increased risk of supervillains in cities who have superpowered protectors."
"These so-called 'superheroes' have reemerged in the public consciousness recently after the debut of Metropolis' Superman and Wonder Woman's announced intent to end her retirement." As the female mortal took her turn speaking, the device began to display Superman.
The god seemed to be flying through the air and battling some kind of giant wooden creature, striking it with great strength and burning it by channeling magic through his eyes.
Gwyndolin was impressed by the sight and, for a moment, he contemplated the feasibility of casting sorceries with his eyes. He didn't feel comfortable removing his mask, but his serpents had plenty of eyes to spare.
"With approval of the Miami police at an all-time low and a recent surge in support of superpowered vigilantes after last month's invasion, many Miami locals have expressed their support for the vigilante online."
"That's right, Margaret. Debate is fierce on what name to call our prospective protector, but the current leading favorite is 'Slither.'"
Gwyndolin was suddenly filled with great regret over his decision to leave the battlefield without sharing a title. He had been called many things over the years—not all of which were intended to be flattering—but at least they were appropriately grand for one of his status. Gwyndolin glared at the two mortals; they must be intentionally mocking him.
"All of Miami is waiting with bated breath for the next appearance of Slither and you'll hear about it first here on Miami News. In other news, a Florida chef employed by the local restaurant, 'Gregs Gator Shack' was arrested after breaking into Arkham Asylum in an attempt to kidnap Killer Croc. More on this after the break."
Gwyndolin was still glaring at the device when David began gesticulating with enthusiasm.
"Did you hear that? You've got a superhero name now, Slither! It's so cool." David was looking up at Gwyndolin with nothing but earnest awe in his expression. No matter how hard he looked, Gwyndolin could see sense do deception from David; he truly believed 'Slither' was a worthy name.
For the second time in a single hour, Gwyndolin conjured an illusion to hide his flushed cheeks.
Mayhap mine perception is inaccurate, Gwyndolin pondered.
Slither may not be as noble a sobriquet as he was accustomed, but the gods of this world seemed to avoid grand names for themselves. Whether it be Superman, Wonder Woman, or Batman, all of these were rather simple names—perhaps he should merely be glad he was not being referred to as Snake Man.
Could it be that mortals were simply incompetent when choosing names?
Aside from that, there were also the continuous efforts he had rebuffed to magically search for his location. It was likely the work of the other lunar gods, searching for the unknown entity that had laid claim to their domain.
There was little chance they would succeed in finding him through magic; he had become very good at hiding. However, they may manage to find him through mundane means if Gwyndolin were to take on a title that referred to his domain.
Slither would have to do, but he didn't wish for David to call him that in private.
"Thou may refer to me by mine true name, David."
"But I don't know it?" The child said, looking at him with confusion.
Gwyndolin widened his eyes in surprise. He couldn't remember the last time he had needed to introduce himself to someone.
"Mine name is Gwyndolin. It's a pleasure to meet you, David."
David blinked at him blankly. "That's a girl's name."
"Thine deductive prowess is stirring," Gwyndolin said wryly.
He didn't feel any shame about his name, though he wished it had caused him less political grief. He had been compelled to start referring to himself in epitaphs at some point. Everyone in Anor Londo had known he was raised as a female, but the 'Nameless Moon' had an easier time garnering respect than 'Gwyndolin.'
After a few more moments where David stared off into space with a confused expression, he seemingly decided to move past the matter with a shrug.
"Well, nice to meet you, Gwyndolin. I'm David Sargent. Do you have a last name?"
"Mine family never saw the need for such."
The name Gwyn and its derivatives had been exclusively reserved for his family
"Oh, okay," said David, once again confused. "Hey wait a minute! You shouldn't go telling strangers your secret identity. What if I were a bad guy?"
This time it was Gwyndolin's turn to be befuddled. He could understand why he would wish to hide his identity—given the forces searching for him—but David didn't know that.
"Why dost thou believe I should hide mine identity?"
"All heroes have a secret identity because they're hiding from the Illuminate, duh," said David. Gwyndolin could tell the child was glad for the opportunity to share his knowledge. "I read about it on the internet. If you have superpowers and the government knows who you are, the Illuminate will send the CIA to kidnap you!"
Gwyndolin had plenty of experience with secret conspiracies and was not particularly concerned about a mysterious organization that had been discovered by a child. Though they did have a surprisingly good name.
"Very well, David. I shall protect mine identity studiously."
David nodded his approval before excitedly blurting out a question.
"When are you going to go superheroing again? I want to help!"
Gwyndolin looked down at the tiny mortal who was attempting to ingratiate himself with a pleading expression. His efforts would not be effective; his experience with Yorshka had rendered him sufficiently resistant to such tactics.
"I apologize. Such is not mine intent. I must first prioritize acquiring currency and then legal documents." Gwyndolin did not wish to stay in an abandoned building forever. It was beneath him.
"But if you go superheroing, you can take money from criminals!"
Gwyndolin paused. That was not something he had previously considered. A prideful part of him chafed at stealing, even from criminals, but the practical part of him approved.
"'Tis a reasonable plan, David. Where dost these criminals store their wealth?" Gwyndolin was excited to start. He had already grown tired of being a pauper.
"How should I know? I'm ten," asked David. The way he was looking at Gwyndolin told him that this should be obvious.
"Thou seemed well enough informed on several matters I would not consider common knowledge."
David shook his head emphatically, "That's just common sense stuff. Or stuff I learned on the internet. Or stuff I found out while walking around. You can't figure out where the gangs keep their money on the internet."
"What is the internet?" Gwyndolin asked curiously. It seemed like a useful source of information, which was something he needed desperately.
Nearly an hour later, Gwyndolin was feeling a sense of awe he had not felt since the first time he had seen a living dragon. He had enjoyed the pictures of harmless animals and the 'videos' explaining the Illuminate conspiracy were informative, but the 'website' referred to as 'Wikipedia' was, in his opinion, the greatest thing mortals had ever invented.
"David, canst thou assist me in research with thine device? Thou wouldst gain mine favor."
"Really? You want my help?" David asked excitedly. "Alright. But I want to help you with superhero stuff."
Gwyndolin was confused. Had he not already requested the child's assistance? He may as well agree.
"Very well, David. I agree to thine conditions."
"Awesome!" said David, grinning widely. "Watch out, Miami bad guys! Slither and Chirp are coming for you."
"Chirp?" Gwyndolin asked in confusion.
"Yeah. My favorite hero is Robin. I want to be just like him, so I picked a bird name. You're like Batman, except cooler because I know you."
Gwyndolin couldn't follow David's train of thought and had no idea what the child was talking about. But he was not overly concerned about what the boy called himself.
All of his concern was currently reserved for the knowledge he could access through the internet.
If the mortals had seen fit to put everything he needed to know in one easy-to-access location, then he would gladly accept their generosity. And when he was done, Gwyndolin would create a comprehensive plan to attack the local criminals so he could… repurpose their resources to more productive use.