AzureFeather

After this chapter, I'm gonna be going for two chapters a week- starting next week sometime. Maybe next Sunday? Or maybe this Sunday... depends on whether I get a bunch of time to write in the next few days.

"GIRL!"

Jasmine sighed at the familiar below, getting up and leaving the closet under the stairs designated as her room and headed towards the living room where the noise originated.

At six year six months old, Jasmine was smaller than she should be, her black hair barely kept organized and frayed at the ends, while her sharp green eyes had bags under them, while her pale skin had faint discolorations from where bruises never faded properly.

She was also smart. Far smarter than others her age, an eidetic memory only improving her intelligence, if also shackling her with the ability to not be able to forget a single day of abuse and pain, the agony of having love slowly taken away only to be ultimately abandoned, and the sheer despair of day after day never quite fading. As a side note, it also took away much of the joy of rereading what little books she managed to squirrel away from the Dursley's grubby fingers. She truly wondered if it was more a curse than anything else. If it wasn't for that brief period of time before her mother spiralled into mania trying to protect only her brother in paranoia, and her father became depressed, ultimately agreeing to that white liar's words to give her away and abandon her... If she could not remember those few happy days, showing her happiness is possible, she may have already killed herself. If only she was smart and clever enough to figure out how to acquire it again...

With a suppressed sigh of resignation Jasmine entered the living room to find her uncle standing with his hands on his hips and glaring at the girl. Uncle Vernon was a big, beefy man with a large, purplish face and no neck, with thick dark brown hair and a bushy mustache. The only looks he had ever given her had been of hate and disgust, and it was never going to change.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" She asked quietly. The sham of a human was rather dumb, but unfortunately smart enough to pick up 'disrespect', or whatever he decided disrespect was that day. Hopefully today wouldn't be one of those days where even keeping her mouth shut would be interpreted however the monster damn pleased. She still had scabs from his last enthusiastic attempt at beating the 'freakishness' from her, and those will likely scar as well, adding to the morbid collection across her body.

Vernon frowned deeper, a change from his usual greeting slap across the face. "We all are going to New York in the States on a business trip for the Grunnings to meet with the respected Doctor Strange. Unfortunately," He spat, "We can't leave you here due to it taking about a month and you can't be trusted without someone to keep your freakishness in check, so you're coming with us." His face twisted and seemed to purple even further, "so you better be on your damned best behavior!"

Jasmine nodded. Her Uncle always blamed her for everything that went wrong in his life, taking it out on her physically once a day at minimum. She had been practicing her magic in secret to one day defend herself. While she thinks she is probably strong compared to her extended family, she doesn't know if she's able to keep them in line indefinitely, at least without permanently hurting them- even if every day her willingness to do that grows just a little bit more- and thus she hasn't tried it. If she simply tried to defend herself she guesses their reactions would be even more explosive and drastic, like the time she accidentally made Vernon trip during a beating. What usually lasted a bit over an hour lasted five, and her left arm was broken in multiple places. She still can't grip things properly with it.

Dudley snickered at Jasmine from the couch. He was a five year old spoiled potato, coming closer and closer to being wider than he was tall. He had the blond hair of his mother and the blue eyes of his father, with his personality apparent in its development to becoming the latter. He had always liked watching Jasmine suffer at the hands of his relatives, and she feared it wouldn't be long before he joined the beatings. At that point she really may snap and do something irreversible.

Sitting beside the fat lard was her Aunt Petunia. Pale blonde, tall, and back straight as a ruler and just as unsteady balanced on end, unhelped by her attempting to compensate for Vernon's lack of neck with a head placed on top that looked to be slightly too big on her body. Where Vernon was a physical abuser Petunia satisfied herself with constant belittlement, scorn, degradation, and venom when not ignoring her existence entirely, treating touching Jasmine something far too horrid to bear.

Jasmine's eyes glinted. This month will likely be horrible, but at least the physical beatings may let up a bit so Vernon and Petunia can claim their golden placard of a normal family. Just have to withstand them for a few more years...

With that in mind, Jasmine went to her closet to pack what little possessions she had for the trip.

>>> March, 1987, New York City, New York

After weeks of demanding and waiting for a meeting with the famous Doctor Strange, the Dursleys' request was finally accepted. Jasmine was left in the hotel room after the Dursleys prettied themselves in their best clothes and left to the upscale restaurant to meet the famous neurosurgeon. Dr. Strange calmly greeted the family of three that walked in, his steel grey eyes glinting at the obvious greed and superiority somehow oozing from even the youngest. 

(A/n: Does Dr. Strange have grey eyes? No idea. I'm giving him grey eyes.)

He withheld a sigh. This... is going to be a very annoying meeting. The arrogance of the letters he received was one thing, sitting before what seemed to be pure bigotism, while wearing an uncomfortable grey and black suit? Pain. 

Vernon stepped forward- ignoring the sharp grey eyes that made him slightly uncomfortable- and gave the doctor the good ol' reliable firm handshake. One which he was unaware of his lack of mastery in as he missed the twitch of Strange's eyebrow. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Strange. I am Vernon Dursley and this is my wife, Petunia, and son, Dudley. I'm glad you could make time for us."

Dr. Strange thinly smiled at the fool, "Well, after twenty messages through various people, how could I say no?"

Vernon just smiled and sat his bulk in a chair, completely missing the admonishment. Or if he did hear it, ignored it as inconsequential. The son, Dudley, on the other hand was nearly drooling as his eyes ate the food on other tables, causing Vernon to chuckle. "Shall we eat first, then discuss business?" 

Strange nodded in acquiescence. Thirty minutes of an obscene amount of food mostly consumed by that father and son pair, they were down talking business. Dr. Strange shook his head for the third time, "Apologies, but as I've stated; I am no longer a neurosurgeon. While still licensed, I am now following... Other pursuits."

(A/n: If my brief recollection is correct, Strange at some point had wrist damage to both hands or something, right? Was that why he became a sorcerer? To heal his hands? No idea if that is the case but I'm gonna go with him already succeeding at healing his hands and currently getting sucked further into the mystic world.)

Vernon was unrelenting, "But surely you need drills for whatever it is you are doing. Speaking of, what is it that you are pursuing now? Research perhaps?"

"Somewhere along those lines." Strange replied dryly, his patience for the inane man quickly wearing thin. "I am studying the occult and effects it has on the brain."

The shade of red Vernon's face slowly became nearly amusing enough to make the whole meeting worth it for Strange. Almost. Petunia to the side slowly went white, while the glutton the man called a son obliviously continued to eat his chocolate sundae. "Magic!?" Vernon hissed, "Freakish stuff like that? Why would a respectable man like you study abnormal crap like that!?"

A sigh escaped Strange's lips at the unintended insult to his profession, and calmly looked Vernon in the eye. "Because this so-called magic has the ability to create healing rituals, and as a doctor, I simply wish to find the why and how." 

Petunia's face quickly regained its palor, then went red in disgust, "That is against God's will. Any who practices such a thing should burn!"

"I'm sorry if you feel that way." Strange uttured coldly, "Now I'm sorry, but I can't accept your offer, and have no need for drills at this time. Apologies for wasting your time." He spat with steel finality, eyes daring the family to continue. 

Vernon turned purple in anger, but barely managed to force a twisted, ugly smile onto his face, his hands clenching and shaking, "As you wish. But if you change your mind, be sure to contact Grunnings." 

Strange just nodded coldly as they left, leaving him with the bill to boot, causing him to shake his head in disgust. "Some people have no capability to understand or respect others' ways of life. I pity that poor child and any others raised by them..." Stephan Strange frowned. The one who had told him of them had said they had two children. Odd that they'd leave one child behind, and the way they acted didn't bode well for any reason there could be. Shaking his head he cast aside those thoughts, turning his mind to his latest magical quarry- a string of robberies hitting jewelry stores across the Eastern seaboard. 

(A/n: No idea if that last sentence is an actual plot in marvel. I'm leaving it in cause I can likely tie it into stuff I have planned later, but if anyone is getting expectations for following a plotline they like, I apologize.)

>>> Next Day 

Petunia was just finishing packing her bag for their last-minute flight back to Surrey when she sighed. "I forgot to wake the freak up to make her bag. I'll do it now."
Vernon's eyes flashed and he grabbed her arm. "No! This is our change to get rid of her for good. It's because of her kind that I lost my deal with Dr. Strange!" He snarled, "I refuse to let her live under my roof any longer!"

Petunia pursed her lips and nodded. She hated the girl as well but also feared the reprisal she may receive for doing this before now. But, she'd never seen another freak since the girl was left on her doorstep and started doubting other freaks would do anything at all. Perhaps they could finally get rid of her for good and not even have to kill her themselves! A smile quirked on Petunia's lips at the thought, "Yes, yes." She tittered. "Let's do that, we're so far from my whore of a sister and there's nothing they can do about it. Quickly! Let's finish packing and leave before she wakes!" 

>>> (A/n: Alright; here we go.)

Some time later, Jasmine sat on a curb outside the hotel in New York, eyes blankly staring at the cars passing by.

'I've been abandoned.' She refused to sniffle. 'again.' Yet it hurt so much. Even if they hated her, even if they beat her... No. A wry, broken smile faintly appeared on the girl's lips. This is expected of them, isn't it? The glass of a storefront across the street suddenly cracked, spooking passersby. Jasmine blankly stared at the commotion, Eyes quiet and dark, the sharp green faded slightly. 'Maybe I really should have just slit my throat with the mirror shard in my closet.' 

A shudder passed through the small girl. No. She wouldn't let them win. She wouldn't let the hated world win. Those memories of the single year after her birth were clung to, the young girl tasting the emotions she felt then over and over again, trying to ignore the current agony.

Like a puppet pulled by strings, she clumsily got to her feet. Her tiny suitcase, holding what meager possessions she brought with her, was absently pulled behind her as she stumbled forward. 'What do I do.' Her mind started whirling. Jasmine was always intelligent, but with only six years of experience to draw and grow from, her actual decision making capabilities were limited. 'I can't rely on the Dursley's anymore.' Her older family perhaps? No, they abandoned her too. Those last few months of being neglected and ignored, while better than the beatings and scorn, were also painful. And there was no guarantee her family would become a loving one again if she went back... 'But I don't know how to get a new family either.' She thought back to the few books she read, desperately fishing for a solution, aimlessly stumbling on the road.

'Is there no other way than to go back to the Dursleys?' Surely there was something she could do. 'What did Petunia say that one time? Her whore sister should have just thrown me in an orphanage if she didn't want me instead, I think? Orphanage, what's an orphanage?' Her limited knowledge was a shackle, tightening around her throat. 'Do they even have those in the states?' Even with eidetic memory, one must still have at least seen or heard of information to be able to draw from it. She needed access to more information. 'A library has information right?' She heard Dudley complaining about his kindergarten teacher commanding him to be quiet and choose a book and read. That means libraries must have multiple books, correct? One of the books also briefly mentioned libraries being where another in the series could be found. She didn't think another book on gardening would help her, and she still didn't understand several of the words from that last book with no point of reference, but she also doubted Dudley was smart enough to be able to read a book like that, considering the appalling simplicity of the books she did see him reading. That meant that libraries probably had many different books, maybe with some that could help her. 

'Hopefully this place has libraries.' Coming to a decision and mustering her courage, Jasmine's eyes cleared and sharpened, scanning around her for someone to ask. She'd already wandered far from the hotel, sticking to the main streets. She kept checking groups of people and rejecting them on a feeling she didn't understand, but before long she spotted a small group of people idling out of the way. Four adults and two children a bit older than her. They felt calm, relaxed, and confident to her senses. Idly Jasmine noted that her... 'sense' of people was changing recently. She wondered if that was an effect of growing up. 

"Excuse me," Jasmine interrupted softly. Two of the four adults continued talking, but another noticed her- a large, black haired woman with portly proportions and the darkest tan Jasmine had ever seen, so dark to appear as if chocolate. The woman turned to look at the small girl who approached them, interrupting the conversation in process, before smiling kindly while briefly glancing around for the girl's parents, "Yes? What can I help you with, sweetie?" 

The woman's deep voice came surprisingly smooth to Jasmine, who tried not to show it on her face. "I'm looking for the nearest library, I was wondering if you could impart directions?" Jasmine tilted her head slightly, partially worried she'd asked wrongly. She has her memories as a reference guide, but what her younger self was not paying attention to was not entirely clear, and her actual repertoire of conversations to draw from was sorely lacking. The last five years being filled mostly with abuse, she wasn't sure how much of what she gained from overheard conversations in the Dursleys she could draw from accurately. Most of it was ranting and empty praise, far as she could tell...

Another woman, one of the two talking previously, cooed at the cute girl. "Why of course dearie, we'll be heading to the newly opened library of technology shortly, would you like to join us?" The woman, ginger haired with a smatter of freckles across her face asked kindly, already noticing the lack of parents nearby, and spotting what appeared to be a nasty bruise peeking out of the collar of the girl's too large and worn shirt.

Jasmine debated for a second before nodding. A cautious eye on the adults. The ginger haired woman smiled warmly, "My name is Pepper. This here," Pepper said while gesturing to the large, dark skinned woman, "is Tatalia." She then gestured to the other two adults, "These two, are Natasha and my husband Tony."

Natasha was what Jasmine would describe as 'fit'. Shoulder length blood-red hair over a shapely mature face and pale skin, with bright, near-white blue eyes. Whether it was the way she held herself, or slightly moved, Jasmine could firmly say the red-head had the most 'confident' body she'd ever seen on a person, like her mind was made for the flesh she inhabits and flesh forged for her mind. The dark, sharply dressed clothes fit snugly over all the woman's curves, subtle muscle apparent under what skin was available. Her eyes calm as she nodded at Jasmine in greeting. 

Tony, on the other hand, was large and muscular, almost looking like the men in some of Petunia's magazines, his muscles apparent through the thin black t-shirt, loose Jeans covering his legs. She couldn't see his eyes due to the large, black sunglasses, and a big cowboy hat covered most of his head. Short cropped black hair peeked out above his ears, and his sharp jaw was closely shaven. He carried himself with confidence and assurity, a perpetual smirk dancing over his lips. Jasmine thought she saw his glasses flash for a moment, his face stiffening for a second before relaxing again and calmly greeting her, "Yo."

Jasmine nodded back as the two older children, skin similarly tanned like Tatalia's, wandered up curiously. Jasmine idly wondered how long they had to stay in the sun to become so dark, or if they used those 'fake tan' products she remembered Petunia and Vernon disparaging.

"Hey Ma." "Who is this?" The two girls asked in quick succession while examining the newcomer. Both looked nearly identical, tall, dark skinned, with hazel eyes and strong features. One had a fluffy ball of black hair on her head Jasmine had never seen on a person before, looking like one of those spherically trimmed bushes in the gardening book she read, while the other other had a long, thick ponytail reaching their waist, with the lower half of it being a bleached blonde compared to the pitch-black upper half. 

Tatalia grinned, "Well," She said and gestured to the two larger children, "These are my pride and joy. This rascal with an afro is Riri, while the one who never cuts her hair is Leona." 

Jasmine quickly blinks and nods her head slightly, "Hello, my name is Jasmine." She pauses, tilting her head. "Nice to meet you?"

Both of the older girls grin and echo, ""Nice to meetcha~""

AzureFeather

So, I know Riri Williams is ironman's successor, but I know literally nothing else. I was originally gonna name this character Juliet, as Tatalia was a character I'm creating on the spot, but then I remembered seeing an image somewhere of a character named ironheart and found it fit the situation. A quick search later and I have the name, but I'm not gonna dig deeper into her actual plot for now. Btw, in this case Riri and her Twin (Not cannon. I think/hope) are 11 years old atm. 5 years older than Jasmine.

On another note, want to briefly mention/expand that bit in the chapter about drawing from her own experience to figure out what to do. I think this is the sole reason why reincarnation is such an OP cheat without any additional modifiers on top. One's life experience is the well one draws from to make any and all decisions. In game terms, you can consider the amount of experience one has as wisdom- which generally increases with age, but some people just experience and register more at a time- like if you're very invested in a class versus eyes-glazed-over trying not to fall asleep cause you have one too many times before and are worried about getting a concussion on your desk, or reading versus staring empty eyed into the void cause your internet cut out and you can't get to the library due to the blizzard outside and can only regret not keeping hard books in your apartment.

Likewise in gaming terms, intelligence is what you can do and extrapolate with the experiences you have. For example, you know a bunch of different symbols for different operations, such as division, subtraction, multiplication, addition, etc, and know a bunch of symbols for numbers. But you don't directly know any special equations- like the quadratic formula or Pythagorean theorem. High intelligence lets you derive those formulas from what you do know- just the symbols and basic operations- rather than taking your basic mathematics at only face value.

This also means they have a synergistic effect- low wisdom means you don't have much for your intelligence to use, and low intelligence means you can't really do jack with your wisdom outside of using it one for one.

*cough* Just a way of looking at those two things I find neat and personally satisfying.

Anyway, from here forward we're forging a completely new path! Let's see where this goes, shall we?

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In World Detail Explanation | (For when plopping in story would be an info dump) 

So, Eidetic memory. Remember everything. Pretty simple and straightforward, right? WRONG! There are soooo many different ways 'remembering everything' can be interpreted or be implemented (unless you take it literally, but that'd be boring and no one ever does anyway). The most common way I've seen in various stories and fanfictions I've read is to treat memories as a library you can always access- but in those, memories tend to be surprisingly 'muted' and distant, unemotional and purely logical. I don't really like that all that much, so I've decided my little universe here will have multiple different 'types' of eidetic memory, and add a scale to boot, with the before mentioned being just one of them.

Little Jasmine, on the other hand, has a far more visceral type of Eidetic Memory that some of you may have noticed some effects of. Her memories aren't stored in some grand library she can separate herself from. Instead, they're more akin to being stored just under the surface ocean of her current thoughts, infinitely thin and stacked that so any strong waves in the ocean (her current mental state) will bring forth all memories of certain relation to the current events including the emotions and feelings she experienced at that time, compounding on top of whatever she is currently experiencing. So those beatings she received? Every new one she gets she feels both the physical and emotional pain of all previous beatings at the same time. Luckily for her, it's not exactly linear and has diminishing returns, but the emotions still counter and exceed any numbing she would experience to a repeated situation. Rather, her mind has to grow to handle the also growing input, making her mind far, far stronger than it would first appear.

This has some interesting consequences long-term as well. For one, she'd never get 'bored' of life. Every event she experiences would feel even stronger than the first, because she would always feel the first time and any in between on top of her current experience, her mind simply growing after to accommodate the greater emotions. Of course, if it ever fails to grow... well. Quick trip to cookoo land. Won't take that long.

All her memories are right there, at all times. No library to sequester them away, and the only time delay is her own current confusion/instability and bulk processing of her mind. She also can't access her memories individually, instead she accesses them in groups. Self control will help with this later on, and it's not too apparent now due to both how young she is and how little she's experienced. As a side effect, this makes her mind nearly impossible to alter or affect from the outside. It would be like smashing a thin, delicate thread of glass into a mountain made of solid iron that is only growing denser. 

As an aside, All Eidetic memory is only possible due to magic. Organics have stupidly efficient storages, but even they have limits. Eidetic memory is basically a mutation in the soul allowing for such storage. This also means that separating the soul of someone with eidetic memory from their body won't fuzz their thoughts the same way, with other effects regarding the soul depending on the type. Jasmine, for example, is quite literally unable to split her soul or modify her memories at all. For the latter she can only change her perception of previous memories by stacking new memories on top of them with differing perspectives.