The X-men run missions and work together with the NYPD, striving to maintain a peaceful balance between humans and mutants. When it comes to a fight, they won't back down from protecting those who need their help.
Haven presents itself as a humanitarian organization for activists, leaders, and high society, yet mutants are the secret leaders working to protect and serve their kind. Behind the scenes they bring their goals into reality.
From the time when mutants became known to the world, SUPER was founded as a black-ops division of the CIA in an attempt to classify, observe, and learn more about this new and rising threat.
The Syndicate works to help bring mutantkind to the forefront of the world. They work from the shadows, a beacon of hope for mutants, but a bane to mankind. With their guiding hand, humanity will finally find extinction.
Since the existence of mutants was first revealed in the nineties, the world has become a changed place. Whether they're genetic misfits or the next stage in humanity's evolution, there's no denying their growing numbers, especially in hubs like New York City. The NYPD has a division devoted to mutant related crimes. Super-powered vigilantes help to maintain the peace. Those who style themselves as Homo Superior work to tear society apart for rebuilding in their own image.
MRO is an intermediate to advanced writing level original character, original plot X-Men RPG. We've been open and active since October of 2005. You can play as a mutant, human, or Adapted— one of the rare humans who nullify mutant powers by their very existence. Goodies, baddies, and neutrals are all welcome.
Short Term Plots:Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
The Fountain of Youth
A chemical serum has been released that's shaving a few years off of the population. In some cases, found to be temporary, and in others...?
MRO MOVES WITH CURRENT TIME: What month and year it is now in real life, it's the same for MRO, too.
Fuegogrande: "Fuegogrande" player of The Ranger, Ion, Rhia, and Null
Neopolitan: "Aly" player of Rebecca Grey, Stephanie Graves, Marisol Cervantes, Vanessa Bookman, Chrysanthemum Van Hart, Sabine Sang, Eupraxia
Ongoing Plots
Magic and Mystics
After the events of the 2020 Harvest Moon and the following Winter Solstice, magic has started manifesting in the MROvere! With the efforts of the Welldrinker Cult, people are being converted into Mystics, a species of people genetically disposed to be great conduits for magical energy.
The Pharoah Dynasty
An ancient sorceress is on a quest to bring her long-lost warrior-king to the modern era in a bid for global domination. Can the heroes of the modern world stop her before all is lost?
Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
Adapteds
What if the human race began to adapt to the mutant threat? What if the human race changed ever so subtly... without the x-gene.
Atlanteans
The lost city of Atlantis has been found! Refugees from this undersea mutant dystopia have started to filter in to New York as citizens and businessfolk. You may make one as a player character of run into one on the street.
Got a plot in mind?
MRO plots are player-created the Mods facilitate and organize the big ones, but we get the ideas from you. Do you have a plot in mind, and want to know whether it needs Mod approval? Check out our plot guidelines.
"Score…" well it seemed such. This had to have been the fourth store Sophia had walked in to and come out with a win. Things were on sales she hadn't even dreamed would ever be on sale, but still, deals were deals, why this blouse alone was $300 dollar, but when it was marked down from $400, it was a steal. It had been that kind of day. Donna Karan, Jimmy Choo, Burberry, even Dior, these stores in New York were wonderful for fitting to Sophia's refined, and albeit expensive, taste. Still, it wasn't without its wounds either: Sophia's Black American Express was feeling the pinch, it was a lot of money to spend on clothing she'd probably wear no more than once a month, maybe twice at best, but her ever growing collection of clothes, each of these items would have worked with another.
But with all these clothes, you needed things to go with them. A new pair of heels, the style was priceless, who cared if was almost $200 dollars, they would work with anything and were such a beautiful red, anyone would have died to have seen her in them. Now this one dress of here's, the shoes fit perfectly, but what she need was some jewelry, maybe a necklace, or maybe a slinky bracelet, gold obviously, or even a metallic silver? There were many choices, Sophia looking over her spoils of war though was the best part; far be it for her to not be a girl, in love with her clothes and spoils and nothing else. Even with glasses, she could see the finest threads, high count of course, soft to the touch. It didn't matter where she was going next, the next store surely would have seen her bags and instantly offered the best. But she just couldn't take her eyes off her clothes, they were so pretty, even just imaging what they'd look like on her was heavenly. Who cared who was in front of her or around her, they were in the way, unimportant for what lay before her.
But what was this person doing here? Bumping in to her? Didn't that realize she had bags in her hands, from designer brands, expensive ones too, there was no need to bump in to her. Why then? And why was it so hard that it sent her falling backwards, Sophia didn't need to fall, she was a good person, shopping just for the afternoon, she hadn't done it almost two weeks. Was it really that necessary, and now, oh my! The bags, they were falling on the floor, some of their contents, spilling out on the dirty street, what would people think, what would they say? It was fine to knock over Sophia, but still, there were expensive clothes in these bags, even the ones Sophia was wearing, was that necessary? "Was that really Necessary!?!"
Posted by Clyde Lambert on Feb 25, 2013 17:58:18 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
341
4
Feb 15, 2016 18:39:42 GMT -6
It took Clyde a bit to process what had just happened. One moment, he was walking along the streets to pass the time. The next, he was on the ground, and some blonde-haired woman with glasses and lots and lots of shopping bags was also down nearby. He was starting to stand back up when she blamed him for the incident.
Bumping into people was not a new experience for Clyde. Since he was considerably shorter than a lot of other pedestrians, and that he didn't hold hands with any adult, he often went unseen. That translated into the inattentive walking right into him. Given that knew to watch out for those kinds of things, it wasn't really fair to say he was careless, but sadly, those incidents happened.
However, it wasn't every day that someone would lay full blame on him when it did happen. Sure, it no one wanted their new clothes to get dirty, but the ground was dry, and he didn't see anything that wound up in the gutter. Why was she so angry about it?
Clyde looked at one of the bags, which had fallen near him. At first, he assumed she was stocking up from a sale. But, a glimpse of a receipt that had fallen out told him otherwise. Two hundred dollars for a pair of heels? Yikes! That was a lot to pay for things that put a ton of pressure on the feet. If physics had taught him anything, it was that if you had to have an elephant or a woman in stilettos trod on your foot, you'd better choose the elephant.
The lady's scolding and her expensive tastes in clothes translated to one thing: she was a rich snob. Clyde and people with bloated egos did not mix well. People who thought they were better than they actually were tended to try to exercise dominance over the smaller people. As much as the woman had already ticked him off, he knew full well that he had to keep his cool.
Still getting up, the age shifter glared at the woman. “Yes, I spend my free time wandehring around, knocking ovah unsuspecting shoppahs,” he deadpanned, picking up the fallen bag closest to him. His eyes narrowed as he held it out in her direction. “You need to watch the sidewalk.”
"You look small of that you would!" this was a tragedy in the making. These were expensive items, there was no need to knock her over, and yet he did. Perhaps Sophia though herself partly responsible for not paying attention, but even if she wasn't paying attention, someone like this shouldn't have been loitering around aimlessly. Children like this had no sense of responsibility either, look how he immediately turned this back at Sophia, like it was her fault.
"Gah… stupid children! Get out of they, you'd just get stuff dirty," as if it wasn't already. Her precious shoes, they were knocked out of the box and were now on the ground. These were impossibly red shoes, the kind any woman would have died for, not even the Wicked Witch of the West would have passed up on these ruby slippers. But here they were, slightly scuffed on the very back heel. It would probably come off with some light dusting, but this alone was enough to make Sophia tear up a bit.
"No no no no no No! Please not you… you took a life time to find, I hadn't even worn you yet. Why, why now… you impossibly red gems!?! You hadn't even made your debut… I had a formal gown, atleast two little red dresses, and a black one, I had just the right purse to go with it. Why did it have to be you…." it was both a cry for her fallen shoes, slightly scuffed, no one would naturally see it except for Sophia. But it was also an accusation at the boy too, why did he have to be in her way. Of the places he could have been, why? Sophia was heartbroken, she was sniffling, about ready to cry tears of anguish, all over her impossibly red shoes' being injured before they ever even left with Sophia feet inside of them.
Posted by Clyde Lambert on Mar 1, 2013 1:30:50 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
341
4
Feb 15, 2016 18:39:42 GMT -6
“Hey! Don't call me that!” Clyde snapped at the woman. He wasn't stupid! Nor was he dirty. It was so annoying that people associated him with those, just because he looked like a child. Yes, children generally knew a lot less and tended to get covered in dirt while at play, but that was only a generalization, and an irritating one at that. It meant that anyone who made those assumptions would act like he was incapable of doing anything constructive. Obviously, that was her train of thought regarding kids.
It was evident that she still blamed him for the accident. Maybe he was partially at fault, but despite trying to be the bigger person and picking up a fallen bag for her, his efforts were ignored and she instead opted to go on a completely melodramatic rant regarding a pair of red shoes and spoiled wardrobe plans. She acted as though they were ruined, but they looked just fine to him. Shoes were meant to be walked in, so of course they'd get a bit dirty. Most people would have shrugged it off. But, this woman was instead staring at them with a mournful expression and even talking to them as if they were, well, a loved one that had just died. Behavior like that couldn't be a healthy sign. Though Clyde was still angry, he couldn't help but feel a sort of confused concern for her.
“Umm... ah you okay?” he asked in a puzzled tone. He looked of to the side, rolling his eyes. Why was she so bent out of shape over dropping a pair of shoes? And, oh geez, was she actually about to cry? “Look on the bright side. Nothing fell into a mud puddle,” he sighed, trying show her the situation in a more appropriate perspective.
"There's Mud here!?! Get it away!" that was the last thing she needed now. Mud, the worst enemy of clothing, and even more monstrous to nice clothing too. But was none in Sophia's plainly obvious view, none that she could consider or see in either direction that otherwise left her to believe there was none, which led her to believe this child was even more of an annoyance. In any case, Sophia was certain that this kind of defection in her shoe would be near permanent, which was unfortunate. She had to take a moment examine further, but for now best to gather up all her bags and try to get everything in order. Things were folded now, completely unnecessary for articles of clothing which otherwise were meant for hangers, but for now, they could stay winkled in her bags. Her shoes were much more important though, they were still in prime condition.
"I hope this comes out, I knew I should have covered you in glass…" rising to her feet as she held her shoe in one hand examined it as though a fine crystal gem. Though you needed a special tool for it, so closing one eye, she focused her attention on her glasses and began to shape them anew: using the convex-ing of her eyewear to shape it in to a magnifying lens and magnifying her field of view rather remarkably. Such was Sophia, capable of bending glass to her whim on a moment's notice, even if it was only a few millimeters from her eyes. Still, it was enough for Sophia to get a really good look at the shoe up close now that she held it practically right in front of her face.
"It's a minor scrape… dust particles…" looking at it and judging it for herself, she'd practically forgotten about the person beforehand that had bumped in to her. But that seemed easy to do; small children needed to be ignored, they have no purpose for Sophia, they hardly would have understood her, and even if they could, their ability to vocalize fully rationalized thought was still immature. Talking to one of them was no better than talking to a parrot, but atleast the parrot was usually guaranteed to look prettier than a kid, and they were sweeter too. But for now, this focus was on the shoe, and worse yet, "They're damaged… this is unbelievable. I hope you realize how much this cost! Gah… Probably can't even return them, I only bought them an hour ago… this is horrible, might as well throw them away… They would have looked so good on me..."
Posted by Clyde Lambert on Mar 3, 2013 17:48:13 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
341
4
Feb 15, 2016 18:39:42 GMT -6
Apparently, saying the word “mud” around an obsessive fashionista was the sames as saying “bomb” on an airplane. Clyde couldn't believe that the lady actually thought there was mud around there, nor could he believe her reaction to the idea. The fact that she'd asked him to take the mud away from her was even more ridiculous. “No...” he groaned, shaking his head in disbelief. He didn't like her trying to boss him around. This woman's snobbish behavior was such a bother.
Yet, her actions were also a bit strange. The fact that she wished she'd covered her shoes in glass puzzled Clyde There were many things that could serve as protection, but unless it was bulletproof, glass was not one of them. Glass shatters. Glass doesn't make great packing material. There were plenty of reasons why it wasn't a material one would normally pick to protect their prized items.
He looked up at her, confused, but what he saw only confused him further. One of the lenses in her glasses seemed to be changing shape. Taking his attention away from everything else, he stared at it out of curiosity. The glasses seemed normal; there were no tiny mechanisms that he could see that would account for the change, yet the lens had turned into some sort of strange eyepiece. Was she somehow doing that? If so, there was only one explanation he could fall back on. Mutant.
Clyde turned his attention back to the woman, who was again lamenting her “damaged” shoes. “Why is it always anothah mutant?” the age shifter asked himself out loud. Seriously, he'd been running into other mutants a lot as of late. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but he hadn't quite gotten past the shock that came whenever he met another.
"…I bet if I complain enough they'll let me…..What do you mean 'always another mutant?" despite the attention of her shoes, someone mentioning a mutant was enough to derail Sophia's attention and certainly enough to catch her ere even more. What was wrong with Mutants that he had to phrase it like that, like somehow mutants were the source of his ill-gotten curse of adolescence. Never the less, it was annoying, this boy was annoying, and he needed to be put in his place.
"There's nothing wrong with being a mutant, it's not like I, or anyone else for that matter, has control over being one or not. It's something your born with," a very higher-than-thou way of speaking about the matter. Her stare at the boy was almost as though she were lecturing a child of her own, god forbid she ever had any, and telling them to stop being a retard. Granted Sophia generally concealed her mutation, but she was lucky that her mutation wasn't a visible one: she wasn't blue, green, have a tail, or even strange colored eyes, Sophia was essentially normal, with the exception of having an this ability to command glass.
"So stop blaming mutants for your problems, you purposefully bump in to people and then blame them for your problems is no way to go about life. If anything, you owe me $200 for my shoes, ruining them. In fact, empty out your pockets, I bet you're one of those sneak thieves and pick-pocketed something from me," now she was very cautious. She imagined nothing would be missing, her purse was sealed shut by a bit of glass around the clasp so that nothing could ever be taken out of it, but that wasn't to say something she wasn't aware of wasn't missing at all. Though she very well might have not been missing anything, he also hadn't darted for the hills either yet, which meant there was a possibility that such a gambit would force the child in to a defensive stance and then she'd be in control of the situation. She'd get her $200 back, either from the store, or this kid assuming he hadn't picked it from her pockets.
Posted by Clyde Lambert on Mar 4, 2013 23:29:36 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
341
4
Feb 15, 2016 18:39:42 GMT -6
Okay, maybe the thing about her being a mutant didn't quite come out the way Clyde had wanted it to. Admittedly, some of his previous encounters with other mutants had proved less than savory, but he knew full well that being a mutant did not automatically make one bad. But she appeared completely offended, and proceeded to lecture him about the whole “born this way” subject. The whole time, Clyde just stood there, rolling his eyes. It was information he was already all too aware of. If anything, being patronized was just an irritating reminder of what his mutation did to him.
Just when he was starting to tune her out, the subject went right back to the shoes. Ugh... why wouldn't she get over it? She couldn't seriously be expecting him to pay up for a pair of overpriced blister-causing footwear that touched the ground, could she? Or could she? Even crazier, she was now treating him like some low-life criminal! It went without saying; that woman was some pompous buffoon who was convinced she was above everyone else.
“What? First you lay full blame on me foh the accident, now you're accusing me of stealing?” he exclaimed, doing his best to stand his ground. “Fine, if it will shut you up...” Grumbling, he turned his pants pockets inside out and pulled out what contents they had, which only amounted to a couple of items. “See, phone and keys. In case that isn't enough, and you want to conduct a cavity search, get a warrant.”
"I'm half surprised you even have one of those," referring to the phone as she scanned the objects pulled from the boy's pockets and assumed them satisfactory. But at this point, the fact that he didn't run away simply meant that he hadn't stolen anything from her, and granted if he had tried to, it would have be hard for him to pawn or sell a blouse or skirt, atleast for his age and gender. Sophia was satisfied for now, but held her bags closer too after ensuring all was there, "Drat, I was sure you lifted something off of me. Not that you'd get far anyways…"
"Now go run along and go watch some cartoons or play with your poke-a-mans… or what ever it is you kids do you rot your brains," consider she didn't need him anymore, her first attention was to turn backward toward the store, it was only a block or two away, and maybe if she were went in and went on about how she reconsidered the purchase it might have worked. Though she could help but stand there and figure out how she was going to do it either, "Now if I go in and I changed my mind, they'll look at me weird. I did just make a big deal over getting them… What if I said they was a scratch or blemish on them… nah, they got these out of the back, and I inspected them thoroughly. I guess it's not so noticeable, but I'd have to have some sort of knock out dress to distract attention from them. But the entire point was to get people to notice them… what am I going to do now…?"
Posted by Clyde Lambert on Mar 8, 2013 1:30:15 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
341
4
Feb 15, 2016 18:39:42 GMT -6
Blaming him for the accident, calling him stupid, accusing him of stealing – those were already on Clyde's list of grievances towards that woman. Suggesting that he run off to do some childish things could be added to that.
“I don't rot my brain,” he growled. He might have had his weaknesses, but he didn't consider stupidity to be one of them. This only made that remark even more insulting. Though he was doing his best to contain his temper, this woman was pushing him close to the edge. But, he had to keep himself from yelling at her, or else he'd prove her right.
Though it was time to move on, she was still hung up on those shoes. Even if he strained his mind, he still wouldn't be able to come up with a reason explaining why she was so bothered about the “scratch.” It was annoying to the point of wearing Clyde's patience out. He'd been playing nice for far too long. He was going to tell her exactly what he was thinking.
“What ah you going to do now?” he echoed in a mocking fashion. “Well, heah's an idea. How about you quit acting like a child and deal with it? It's only a tiny little mahk that will probably come right off. Even if it doesn't, no one will notice anyways. We just accidentally bumped into each othah, so quit bossing me around and stop acting like I'm some mindless little brat who's seeking to make yo life miserable!” His tone, though not all that loud, was harsh and slightly agitated, but it wasn't as if he could remain polite to someone who treated him that way.
“But you are a brat…” eye sharpened by the light, but so narrow that you couldn’t possible pass a knife between them. It was a look of malice and vengeance, normally reserved for people who truly offended her and ruined nice clothing. And this boy, he ruined nice clothing.
“These are not just any shoes…These are Manolo Blahnik! They’re a four inch, satin heel, with a pointed toe that’s covered in tiny ruby crystals. They’re low cut and offer a timeless silhouette for a girl’s foot. Slender and slim, they feel like you’re not wearing anything and have the most impeccable sound when you’re walking in them, giving the utter attention to you and almost no one else,” spouting details almost as lightning fast as she had gotten upset over the shoes being hurt. Sophia’s gaze never let up, even though with her supreme focus on the boy, her attention to her mutation and powers were not. As a result, the windows in the surrounding shops, even some of the parked cars, began to rattle, as though wobbling in and out, trying to break their bonds and come forth to Sophia.
“They aren’t even $200 dollar shoes. I got them for $200, the person who sold them to me didn’t even know what they had, but these are expensive. These retail for nearly seventeen hundred dollars. So don’t tell me they’re just any shoes!” because they weren’t and that was what Sophia was most upset about. This was a priceless find, a great find beyond measure, and surely the sales person was getting reamed for selling shoes she probably shouldn’t have. It was Sophia’s win, and they would have looked perfet along her feet, but now she’d never know, a tiny scratch was still noticeable, even if others didn’t know about it, Sophia did.
“They were shoes that you only find once in a life time, and they’re ruined. Now they’re damaged, probably beyond repair, so don’t talk to me about them just being shoes and getting over it. How would you like if I marked up your face, it’s just a face, no one will probably notice anyways….” there was malice in her voice now too, as though she were serious about perhaps hurting him. She wasn’t overly serious about it, but wanted to put the fear in the eyes of a child so that he wouldn’t consider knocking another adult over again. Especially her.
Posted by Clyde Lambert on Mar 10, 2013 20:10:21 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
341
4
Feb 15, 2016 18:39:42 GMT -6
“I'm not a brat!” Clyde yelled. Again, it was that term he hated, hated, HATED to be called. Why did people call him that all the time?
So those weren't just any shoes, huh? The woman sounded as if she was directly quoting some advertisement. The funny thing was, he could easily imagine those ruby crystals being glass or plastic and the satin fabric something synthetic like polyester. He also guessed that they probably hurt to wear. How were they supposed to be anything special? Was it the brand name? Ugh, it sounded so superficial.
“Pardon my ignorance of 'high fashion.' I'm what's called a 'commoner,'” he mumbled, rolling his eyes once more. He was completely sick of her behavior.
The age shifter was about to say more, but a noise distracted him. The windows of the nearby shops were rattling! Earthquake? No, it couldn't have been; the ground wasn't moving. Yet, the windows were, seemingly for no reason. Well, the woman in front of him was a mutant as well. Was she using her powers? Her lenses, the windows – both were glass. Was she a mutant who could control glass?
In the meantime, the woman's accusations had gotten harsher, and she was even suggesting that she was willing to scratch up his face. Wow. She wasn't merely annoying and stuck up; she was also a bit cruel. He really wanted to say, “Lady, those shoes were ruined the moment you bought them,” but she looked angry enough to strangle him. Given that she had some sort of mutant ability, it was probably best he didn't anger her further. While he didn't want to get hurt, he wasn't going to let her intimidate him, either.
“Ah you threatening me?” he asked. He kept his hand on the phone in his pocket. “Look, I don't want any trouble, but if you even try to hurt me, I'll have to call the police.”
“A child should always be threatened of an adult… especially when they’re running in to people and destroying property,” though a little less malice than before, she was still very annoyed. She wanted this boy to run along, go home and disappear from her view. And so she had a better idea.
Despite wanting to harm the boy as much as he had harmed her new shoes, it wouldn’t fly. The sudden speaking of police was enough to remind Sophia that this was still a child, and harming him would have been wrong, it would be felt much better, but wrong none the less. So a different equation had to be made that would have appropriately gotten the result she wanted. So as a result, a display window cracked, a rather large crack, not very difficult to make for Sophia, but enough that a child could be possibly be blamed for it. And then it began to shatter even more as Sophia looked at it, though her look on her face was one of wonder and surprise, a bit shock thrown in just for kicks.
“Now look what you did. I was right, a brat like you, breaking windows. It’s a shame, but children need to be punished for their crimes," though Sophia was well aware it wasn't her, even in her voice, a hint of mocking in it as she looked at the boy still arguing with her. And the glass's tempered nature was such that rather than crack like a singular sheet of glass, it broke in tiny pieces, looking very much like a car window would if smashed in by a solid object, just no hole yet. Turning back to the boy though, it was time he got what he deserved, whipping out her phone and pretending to dial something, “We can't have juveniles running loose. But… say I turned my head, and the child ran off, I can't held responsible. Though I should definitely contact the authorities and let them know what I saw."
“Now go away, go and play your Z-box or your Power Marshals or whatever it is brats do." clearly dialing numbers, they weren't anything in particular, she could have very easily dialed the mansion or contacted the shop itself, but the number was arbitrary and hardly of interest. Staring down at the kid, ready for him to leave and depart, she passed a few words wisdom to him, “You see me walking down the street, I'd consider crossing it. Now scram."
Posted by Clyde Lambert on Mar 15, 2013 17:46:23 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
341
4
Feb 15, 2016 18:39:42 GMT -6
The mocking and cruel tone of the woman's words irked Clyde. He couldn't disagree with her more, and it wasn't just because they were directed at him. Even real kids had the right to be free of intimidation. He sure hoped she didn't have any children of her own. Probably not, but if she did, the poor things would be so traumatized.
Clyde was about to remind her how despicable she was when there was a loud, cracking sound. A look of shock appeared on his face as a nearby display window cracked by itself. That lady... she just vandalized a shop! Even worse, she had her own phone out, dialing some number and continuing to threaten him. Was she going to try to pin the act on him?
“You... ah trying to frame me now?” There was a slight stammer in his voice. What she did was low. Very low. All this, for a nanoscopic mark on a shoe? What had he done to deserve that sort of treatment?
For a second, the age shifter didn't know what to do, but that was soon remidied when an idea occurred to him. There was something that about every city shop had, something that would keep him from taking her fall. His expression turned into a smirk when he found not only one, but at least three. Bingo. The shops here were no different.
“Sorry, but theah's yo plan's fatal flaw,” he spoke boldly. He nodded in the direction of a security camera outside of a neighboring store. “See the cameras? I bet one of them just recorded the whole incident, and I'm sure that if the shop ownahs saw that, it would be pretty cleah that I didn't touch it nor throw anything. Howevah, it just might have caught you using yo powah, so if you try to blame me, I could simply tell them to look at the footage, and then they'd have a very good guess as to what really happened. You created that problem, so it's yo responsibility.”
Clyde continued to look up at the woman with a slight hint of contempt. Really, he felt she should have known better than to threaten people, particularly children, without reason. It was one of those things that didn't need to be said.
What was this kid's issue? Sophia wanted him gone, why wasn't he listening. And for a small kid, he was awfully resourceful in thinking his thoughts out. Still, it wasn't a good conclusion that he had reached, not even a conductive one. He had thought something out, but wasn't a hundred percent thought out obviously, “I’m surprised you're not running. It doesn't matter, police don't look at camera recordings immediately either, not unless it's handed over, and only when there isn't overwhelming evidence. It wouldn't matter anyways, you're closest to the window, I never looked nor motioned toward the window, and beyond any of that, camera's don't have microphones, they wouldn't and couldn't hear us even if we wanted them to."
“Go home kid, unlike you, I have real things to do, so beat it," deciding she needed to be the adult in this, Sophia placed her items in her bag, and began walking in the opposite direction, her hand firmly pressed on the talk button bring her phone up to her hand. This kid was annoying, what was his next move, tackle Sophia and keep her from going anywhere? That seemed unlikely, and frankly, Sophia knew he wasn't going to do anything. He needed to go, real people, real adults like her had placed to go, people to see, and shoes to return. I remained to be seen if she could return it, and even if not possible, maybe it was possible to wear the shoes and no one notice. She'd probably need to do a test trial at the mansion, or such.
“Yes 911… Yes there was a kid, and he was by some glass window, and it look like he broken the window. Last I saw him standing by it and he's not there anymore, but he was some short kid, brown hair, running around the garment district like he owned the place," figuring that was enough, she turned around toward the glass to see if her would be miniature stalker was still behind her. Granted she didn't quite see him, but then noticed something else instead.
