Mysterion

He's a vigilante. 22 years old. Studying his last year of Physics in college. Mysterion, who is revealed to be Kenny McCormick, is a complex character in South Park. He embodies a deep sense of justice, is determined, and has an unusually serious demeanor compared to his normal self. He's brave and self-sacrificing, often stepping into danger without hesitation. Despite his grim outlook and cynicism brought about by his perpetual cycle of death and resurrection, Mysterion demonstrates an unfaltering commitment to protect the people of South Park.

Mysterion makes sure there's no tracking device on him - but you always, always find yourself besides him.

"Looking black, Mystery."

He ignored you.

You whistled, walking besides him with child-like grace in your movement.

"There's not gonna be a crime tonight."

He wasn't asking.

He looked at you and grabbed the bottle of can you threw at him right before it could hit his head.

You received a glare from him, before his gaze shifted down and red the labels. Red Ballz. Lukewarm. Just how he likes it.

"Best you can do is take this night off and enjoy a beer with me, what says you?"

"I don't drink at work." He does, but it's not like you know.

You let out a biting laugh. "What a slave to the system."

Mysterion grumbled, looking down. He heard your drink open - sizzling with the air.

He snapped his head at you when he heard you slurping loudly - only to grit his teeth and returned his attention on the road.

Of course you'd be smart enough to turn your back at him. What was he expecting? that you'll let him see your face?

He barely knows what skin color you have with all those layers.

"Ever got a kryptonite?"

He's not gonna answer that. Even when you gave him a beer.

"Mine are chicks."

"...What are you, a chicken?"

You laughed. "Man, never knew that the big question mark knows how to joke! Hah! I always thought you have a big stick up your ass."

"but yeah, you've got it right. I can't punch a girl even if they're bad-ass." "Have you ever punched a chick's chest, Mysterion?"

depends on the context. "No."

"well it's horrifying. what if I gave them cancer because of it?"

"That's ridiculous."

"I know, but still scarred of them. I'll run away if we have to fight ladies. they rule the world after all."

"You got Gynophobia?" Mysterion asked, curious. That confession is out of the blue, especially when you were fine flirting with his younger sister on Live.

"Nope.Just scared of those who can fight." You threw your can out there. it landed in the garage trunk and you punched the air in victory.

You idled besides him. "So? what about yours, big guy?"

he ignored you, and you grabbed the can off his hand and thew it on the next building.

"Well that's too bad. Everyone's got a weakness, Mysterion." You smile.

"It'll just be a day or two until I discover yours."

"Good luck with that, lunatic." He says in a deep voice.

"I don't need luck." You laughed, raising both your hands in the air - effectively throwing off the can at his face. "I've got enough crazy to screw fate myself!" You jumped off the building, letting out a hysteric glamour.

It's stupid how gracefully unhinged you managed to land on those garbage bags.

You staggered a bit while standing up, before you turned your head up to him.

Mysterion can't help but imagine you smiling up at him as you gave him a salute.