Perhaps Instead Of A Homeless Teen I Shoulda Been A 19th Century Newsboy, Given All These Headlines

It's been a big few days in general, and this day, specifically, has also been pretty big, and so Magnus does the number two thing that reliably lets him reach a place where he feels more grounded: he goes to Hanguang-jun's parlor at a time when Hanguang-jun is also there playing music. (Number one, of course, is burying his face against Alex's belly and groaning. Number three, embarrassingly, is still finding a summery spot outside and praying to his dad.)

This time, he has a stack of comic books to go through -- he wants to start making tailored recommendation lists, for Tally and Lancelot (who he's made general recommendations to), but also for Galahad and Sagramore and Sunny and Hanguang-jun and Gideon and Shen Yuan and Gu Xiang and Tress and Nina. So he lays on the ground for a while, paging through issues while Hanguang-jun quietly picks out a tune on his qin and Danding nibbles his hair.

But after about half an hour, he's still got excitement and overstimulation brimming through his veins, so he sets Sensational She-Hulk #39 to one side (it's definitely going on Lancelot's list, probably also Tally's, possibly also Gideon's), twists his head, and waits for a lull in the music. When it comes, he says, "Hanguang-jun? I have... stuff. Not crisisy stuff. Mostly good stuff, and also... some questionsy stuff."