The idea behind thievery is usually very basic. Party One has something that Party Two considers valuable and wants. Party One refuses to part with said item, or Party Two is unwilling to pay the value of said item. Party Two instead uses underhanded means to acquire said item from Party One, usually involving such activities as spying, breaking and entering, property damage, and possibly assault. Thus, Party Two becomes ‘a thief’. Easy, basic, and usually illegal.

Leave it to Neena to make such a simple idea complicated.

Though various avenues, she’d discovered that a locally famous art dealer had recently purchased a Tudor-style house in upper New York, similar to some of the smaller mansions found in Buffalo. The dealer was a very cautious man, and not one given to bragging about his acquisitions or collections. Nor did he flaunt his riches in the usual manner of his colleagues. There was the usual media hype that not all of his dealings were ‘above the table’, but nothing of import could ever be attached to him with enough sticking power to convict. That in itself intrigued the white-eyed woman. And that was why her first night off in a month from teaching found her making her way, at a quite leisurely pace, toward the manor house, not long after two o’clock in the morning.

She was dressed in a variation of her ‘mission outfit’. Unlike her uniform, all of the pockets in the fitted bodysuit were hidden from sight. Everything, from the slim utility belt around her waist, extra thin gloves, soft-soled slippers, and sunglasses, were finished in black matte. Between that and her already-dark skin, she all but blended into the shadows.

She approached the privacy wall and paused under the shadow of the trees, one eye already set on xray, while the other scanned for electronic heat. After several moments she’d spotted the heat of a series of moving cameras spaced across the top of the wall. Basic, and fairly useless. However, another detail immediately caught her attention; numerous splotches of orange and yellow showed up in her infrared, all along the wall, indicating machinery hidden beneath the surface of the structure. Tilting her head, xray revealed a series of flat plates embedded in the brick.

Pressure pads? Well now, that ruled out climbing the wall. Interesting.

From one of her pockets, she pulled out a thin grappling wire, with a small, rubber ball on its end. She watched the cameras, until she found a blind spot. With a twirl and flick of her wrist the little ball guided the wire up and around the base of the camera several times, securing it in place. She shimmied up the trunk of the tree, and secured the other end of the wire to a large bough. In the darkness, the wire practically vanished in the night. She waited once more for the camera’s blind spot, then quickly spanned the distance like a high-wire artist. Stepping onto the top of the camera to avoid the pressure plates, she dropped quietly down on the other side of the wall.

Neena had the advantage over a normal thief in her trek across the expansive lawn, in that her visions allowed her to see the heat emanating from various forms of machinery, as well as living creatures. Interestingly enough, by the time she reached the building itself, she hadn’t seen any of the latter.

Odd....

Perry Green. A ruthless information fence. The knowledge he had kept him at both completely safe and completely unsafe. A habit of the traders of things others wanted and how to get them. You either knew him or you didn't. There was no knowing of him or hearing of him. Usually, if you were one of the few that did know him, you had a reason not to like him. Roland's was similar to most in that Perry had a habit of not mentioning something crucial to the job as a form of some sort of sadistic amusement. His leads were always so good though that the brave or the stupid usually took the risk. Roland hoped he would be the former.

They met at Coney Island in the mirror maze. Perry also had a penchant for the comical and bizarre. No doubt he had protection nearby. Roland set himself up through himself in a manner of speaking, presenting himself as Ray Verb. Obviously a cover but he wanted to ensure that Perry had no clue who he was really dealing with. The lights were flashing and music blaring, Roland finding the aforementioned mirror panel with the x in the bottom right corner. He set his briefcase down, which included several documents and a large sum of cash which would both identify him as "Roland's" contact and pay off Perry."Thank you for your donation, traveler. I assume you are here for something?" Roland's eyes rolled in his head. Why couldn't so called professionals just act like them?" Yes, I'm here for .." Perry interrupted him quickly. " I know what you are here for friend. Tell Roland this one is as smooth as silk. Not a bit of trouble out of this one. I wanted to let him know that we could be friends again and this is my sign of good faith." Roland picked up the alternate briefcase, identical to the one he had brought in."I'll be sure to pass it on."

----

The Tudor-style house belonged to Katharine Simms, known to those in the underground as Kimi. Kimi was a retired thief herself and always put things out where they might attract the proper kind of flies. She usually made the bait juicy enough that no one would turn down the gauntlet they would have to fact to glean the prize offered. Fortunately, Roland had had the distinct pleasure of knowing andworking with Kimi and knew of her one weakness. Kimi never liked the idea of not having a way out. Everywhere she had resided or squatted in always had an escape tunnel. Some intuition and the plans to the house had given him the boon of finding the hatch, cleverly linked in with the nearby drainage system.

Roland was suited up in his work suit. It was a suit he had implemented over the years with the money and tech he had come across. it was a work of passion and obsession. All darkness, not a bit of skin uncovered. A thin red line was all that was revealed of the multi-spectrum sensory device, which gave Roland a constant HUD of the area. Knowing many of the houses defenses ahead of time made for easy pickings, though of moderate danger, even to someone of Roland's caliber. Finding the entry into the tunnel wasn't so bad. Finding the tunnel running for 300 yards with at least a hundred laser lines running it was more like fun. Roland opened his hand and there was something akin to a stack of dimes in his hand. They were actually finely polished metallic mirrors, fifty of them. Roland had worked with these little lovelies for so long that he was intimately familiar with their use and the movement down the tunnel displayed such. Having roughly four feet of room to work with , Roland rolled and leaped through the tunnel, the 'dimes' constantly teleporting and moving to reflect the lasers back at themselves.

At the hatch at tunnel's end, a neat stack of dimes closed back into his hand and vanished. Roland smiled as the hatch merely had a complex keylock, probably being fit by the key Kimi generally wore around her neck. His picks appeared and he worked the lock like an old, familiar lover, feeling the easy push as the last bit of resistance melted before his dexterity. The hatch popped up and slid to the side, revealing the narrow space beneath a bed. Roland crept under and peered out, grinning underneath the temperature controlled suit as he was the monster under the bed.

<"Good think I stocked up on Tylenol before coming,"> Neena thought silently. Indeed, with her various visions cycling constantly as she made her way to the side of the house, taking painkillers in advance had been a tactical move on her part.

She spotted the invisible fence of lasers around the dense shrubbery surrounding the house. Nearly a foot high, it required a planned hop to get to safety.

Safety being a relative term. By the time she spotted a thin coating of reflective metal lining all of the first floor windows, the African woman began to suspect that the house's owner was distinctly paranoid. She knew from experience that any basic tampering with the locking mechanisms would set off an electromagnetic alarm within the system, and announce her presence to whatever company and/or other party wired into the security system. Not your average, everyday alarm wiring.

Rather than fuss with such an elaborate system, Neena decided to take the high road. After double-checking to be sure there were no more pressure plates hidden in the brickwork of the house, she made her way to a corner. She was no cat by any means, but gymnastic and acrobatic training made scaling the wall, to the nearest second floor window, look easy.

She planted her feet on the edge of the nearest window sill, an image of Sara climbing the sides of burning buildings flashing through her head. At least this time there was no smoke to clog her senses. She twisted and leaned down, unconcerned with the precariousness of her position, to take a quick peek inside.

"I don't believe it," she murmured quietly. The window had an electronic lock. Who put's an electronic lock on a second-story window??

If she hadn't been intrigued before, she surely was now. Either this person was a security buff, or there was something quite tempting to thieves inside. Either way, Neena wanted to find out. She'd already resigned herself mentally that she'd be spending the night in a jail cell, but meeting the designer of this gauntlet would definitely be worthwhile.

She examined the lock for a moment from outside, before straightening up. From a pocket popped a diamond tipped glass cutter. Getting the piece to tip out took more effort, and a practiced snap of the wrist, than cutting it out. The cutter disappeared, replaced by a vial of luminecient powder to see finger prints. Again Neena thanked the painkillers in her system in advance for the work they'd be doing later, after she finished twisting her body into a pretzel to key in the lock code.

The contortionistic effort paid off, and the window finally opened and allowed her to slip inside. After yet another scan of the room, which turned out to be a bathroom of all places, she slipped out of the door to begin exploring this delightful den of surprises.

But honestly.... An electronic lock, on a bathroom window? Why??

Roland rolled from beneath the bed and looked around. Well, actually scanned the room would be the proper word. He noticed the opulence of the vanity and the stunning amount of jewelry in the open jewelry box on it. Easy pickings for the luck and stupid to make it here. He didn't have to check it for the obvious motion detector on it. No negative points this early in the game. There was one thing here and he knew where it was, his eyes looking at the ceiling of the room. He crept through the room and noticed the interior door was unlocked. After a long and intensive examination, he found it was nothing more than an unlocked door.

A fiber optic cable slid beneath the door and craned its little neck in a circle, observing the hall. the lights were on. Not surprising as it would make a dark stealth suit all the more revealing to the cameras. The cable was attached to the datalink of his HUD and he switched to an electromagnetic frequency to scan for the cameras. Two, one on each end, set into the wall about an inch off of each other to prevent an easy block. No obvious rotating old models here. They were quite small as well, perhaps button sized. The cable retracted, the door opened slightly. From the opposite corner of the bedroom, still in sight of the distant device, Roland covered the first with a dime mirror. He opened the door fully and covered the other one from behind the crack of the door. Like its smaller brother, the black head with its eerie single red line next poked out from the now open door, looking both directions and then leading the way for the body to creep out prone. The door was then closed with a click as Roland crawled on his elbows, sliding his legs along until out of sight.

Rolling into a ball around the corner after seeing a roving camera at the end of the next hall, Roland quickly kipped up into a handstand in the corner. He needed cover. The camera was slowly coming back and if it was capable of surprise it would have showed such an emotion as a grandfather clock was now in the corner, a man standing on hands behind it. The camera alone wasn't enough to cause such a movement. The opening of a door at the end of the hall was more than enough. A slight score deduction for a clock movement was worth stalling the meeting of himself and contestant number two.

A slight creak from the hallway gave Neena pause. The door halted, half-open. Her eyes began their rapid cycling again. To the random onlooker, she could have been having a fit or seizure with the way her lids seemed to twitch uncontrollably. Or possibly, in a cartoon rendition, spun around like a slot machine. She hit the jackpot, too, as an orange-yellow blob swam into view on her infrared. Although seemingly upside down, the heat signature was distinctly human-shaped. One eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

So.... she wasn't the only body in the house after all. But who was the other one?

Keeping her left eye in heat vision, she blinked the right over to xray. The walls and furniture before her melted into each other in a slightly blurred manner. It took several moments for her to hone in on the appropriate area, but she finally saw another black clad figure on the other end of the hallway.

A sharp pain shot through her head, and she cringed. Her eyes did not appreciate being abused on this scale, and made their discomfort known.

<"Fine. Be that way,"> she grumbled silently. Of all of her special sights, she hated xray the most. Even after twenty years of use, it still caused too much confusion to be practical. Why couldn't she have selective xray vision? Like Superman.

Heh. For that matter, why not the strength and flight, as well?

Ah well. She could lament in her cell later. She needed to find a way to deal with her fellow intruder first. Having spotted the camera in the lit hallway, above the door, she slipped out and under it. Moving opposite to its revolution proved difficult in the lack of shadows, but she managed to slip, unseen, into a room a bit further down the hall. She purposefully closed the door a bit louder than necessary, to announce her departure to her fellow shadow. She took in her surroundings quickly, to find a hiding place should she need it, then turned her attention to the warm-blooded figure hiding behind Father Time.

Roland waited a moment in his stance. He turned his head to see between the clock and the wall. He could only see the camera when it was at the end of its arc, just catching the lens as it began to move back across its sweep of the hall. He kept his eyes focused on the spot, his arms beginning to push back. 1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8..Lens. He let it swivel once more to ensure his count was correct. 1..2.. Roland walked on his hands and came from behind the clock, dropping down in a squat.3..4..Dimes teleported in 4 stacks of 5 evenly spaced between the closed door of contestant two and the frame, Roland pushed back up into his stance and handwalked back behind the clock. He grinned inside the suit, knowing his new friend would have fun getting out of the room now.

He waited for another arc and steeled himself for movement. Once the time was right, he cartwheeled from behind the clock and made two rolls in a figure eight, coming up flat against the wall facing down the hall from which his quarry came. The head with its thin red line cocked for a moment and then looked behind him to the door from whence it came. He opened the door and stepped back into the room. A bathroom. A circle of glass missing from it, just large enough for a nimble and limber person to squeeze. Now he had an alternate escape route.

The door opened again and he looked down the next hall. Besides the doors full of fun flanking each side of it, he was concerned only with the trapdoor on the ceiling at its end. It looked like the typical attic entrance, with its fold out stairs that would normally be sitting on top of it. But there was no ring to pull it down. No doubt it was run by remote. The time was approaching to decide whether or not to escape and return or to push on and risk capture. The only way this was going to get done was with finesse and force. The finesse would keep him safe and uninjured, the force would ruin the quality of the job. However, the item, which was more than likely above him even now, was worth it.

Standing stock still in the dark room, Neena could have been a cat with as much curiosity coursed through her system. She watched her upside-down fellow intruder's heat signature, as it slowly moved out of its hiding place, then dropped back to right side up. It paused there for a count of two, before reversing back to its upside-down handstand.

One eyebrow scrunched in a thoughtful frown. Now what was the point of that little maneuver? She quickly scanned the floor once more. The only devices of interest, other than more of the electronic window locks and square of wiring on the ceiling, was the camera at the end of the hall. After another pause, the time it took the camera to swing away, the figure quickly twisted out of its hiding place, and made a dash down the hall....

.... toward the bathroom door she'd entered the house from. She reached for the door handle; she wasn't sure if the intruder planned to leave the same way she'd come in, but she couldn't risk it. She doubted they had the same non-thieving intentions that she did, and couldn't risk them disappearing with something valuable from the house.

The door jiggled, but refused to open. She stepped back and scanned it for an auto-lock, but found no active security. No slivery glint of electromagnetic circuits, either, and the knob worked just fine. She took a closer look at the hinges.

Her frown deepened when she spotted the tiny discs wedged into the door frame. Those hadn't been there before....

Neena narrowed her eyes at the heat signature down the hall. Perhaps she was jumping to conclusions, but she was willing to bet that it belong to a mutant. And that meant the time for lazing about was over. She needed to make sure that her new friend either joined her in a cell, or took her place. Either option would be just fine.

She shut the door firmly, then pulled out the glass cutter again. Using the slim end as a lever, and no longer worrying about excess noise or cameras, she tapped until the discs came unwedged enough for her to wriggle the door open. She stepped out into the hall and stood there, facing her fellow shadow, hands on her hips.

"Halloween was last week, m'friend," she remarked in a quiet voice, taking note of the all black outfit and thin red eyeline. "Unless you're practicing for next year's Haunted House, you've got some serious explaining to do."

Idly she noticed that the camera had begun its swing back in her direction. She took several rapid steps forward, in a simultaneous attempt to get out of its line of vision, and to press her companion back. She tensed, anticipating a struggle.

As Roland was surveying the final hallway, he heard a distinct tapping sound coming from the other player's room. His eyes narrowed enough that if the red line could also squint in frustration, it would have. The dimes came tapping out, each one never hitting the floor and instead vanishing into his person. The door opened and a figure stepped out. The look on his face was classic, were it not concealed by his mask. Nehanda Jenkins was standing in the hall. His posture tensed. What to do now?

"Halloween was last week, m'friend. Unless you're practicing for next year's Haunted House, you've got some serious explaining to do." More explaining than her mind could imagine, Roland thought to himself. His thoughts turned to the whirring of the camera as it began its arc towards her. He stepped back a second before she got to him, giving her ample room to enter and avoid detection. Her momentum caused her to go quickly towards the window and its wired frame. For both of their sakes, he grabbed her wrist firmly, spun behind her and kicked the door shut.

Feeling her body's reflexes turning to attack, he let go of her and then jumped backward into the shower. The silenced pistol appeared in his hand as she turned toward him. His free hand was out in front of him as quickly, his palm facing outward in the universal sign for Stop. His mind reeled in this scenario. In any other case, there would have been no warning. When he slipped behind her, it would have been to catch her body from triggering an alarm and then spraying the window with her gray matter via this same gun. He felt something for her , though. This certainly put a serious kink in his otherwise smooth plans.

Her companion obviously had no intentions of being caught, either by her personally or indirectly, and checked her slide toward the window. She whirled the instant she was released, and even managed a step forward before she found a silencer being waved in her face. She immediately retracted the step, and took another backwards. Her body jarred to a halt against the sink, and her arm went out, landing on the towel rack, to keep her from falling.

Behind her glasses her eyes had narrowed to slits, and her mind began working overtime.

For a mini-mansion, the bathroom was rather small and a bit cluttered, leaving very little space between the two. She could use that to her advantage. And despite being armed, her fellow hadn't pulled the trigger yet. They assumed she wouldn't move, for fear of being shot.

Shame. She wasn't fond of pain, surely. But sometimes it couldn't be avoided.

A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth, before she she moved. Her fist tightened over the larger towel, and she yanked it forward toward the shower, sending several smaller items through the air. She followed the object forward, twisted as she went to narrow their target options. In the small space, the most they'd be able to get off was one shot, possibly two, difficult even for a sharpshooter.

She made a grab for the gun with her hands, and aimed a shoulder at the intruder's chest, while attempting not to trip on the edge of the shower floor.

Roland could see Nehanda was still in combat mode. He couldn't blame her really. The gun pointed at her surely didn't help. He knew since the suit was soundproof, he wouldn't be able to say anything to her until it came off. The gun would keep most people in check, but this woman was a fighter and a good one at that, judging from her assessing eyes. Simple shades weren't enough to disguise her own frustration in the situation, albeit for very different reasons. He had no more time to think as she burst into action once more. Action. Reaction.

The towel was cotton apparently as it did not respond to his mutation. Pity. The gun would though. Roland took the shoulder hit and went hard into the wall of the shower. The gun was placed on the sink opposite them. He dropped to his haunches and pushed with his two feet into her legs, hoping to knock her off balance. There was enough room between her legs that he flipped onto his stomach and pushed out with his arms, sliding through them and kipping up and backward to the sink. He crouched there on the sink, the gun again in his hands. Both of them this time.

The gun's hammer clicked in readiness. Perhaps the sound of imminent death would halt her assault more than a simple hand gesture. He simply shook his head slowly as she turned. Don't make me shoot you, Nehanda. If she was a telepath, she would have heard it loud and clear. She wasn't however, or she would already know the frantic look was coming from the eyes of the man who cared for her. He couldn't very well reveal his identity until she calmed down. He was going to?

Her hands closed over air where the gun had been, and she had no time to try and find it again. Her opponent, which she felt fairly sure was a 'he', took the hit, but literally slid out of her grasp as she toppled over. Her palms stretched out to catch her fall, muscles tensing to push back up. Her legs snapped back under her as well, and she ended up kneeling on one knee, like a sprinter about to begin a race, where her target had been moments before.

Click!

She stopped moving again. She had to look up this time, to see the gun trained on her once more. Her companion's flexibility and speed indicated gymnastics training. And there was no denying that the vanishing firearm could be attributed to mutant ability.

She'd lost her edge of surprise, and couldn't attempt another rush from her position. However, that didn't mean she planned on staying put.

Slowly, and keeping her hands in sight, she stood and straightened. With him up on the sink like that, she still had to look up. She watched the gun carefully, since there was no face to stare at instead.

"Stop trying to threaten with that thing," she growled quietly. "Either use it or lose it." Her tone indicated that it had better be the former, if he wanted to get out without a fight. And he'd better aim for her head, since the chest was lined enough to still give her a chance to survive. Either way, she was not backing down.

The look on Nehanda's face was rousing, the strong look of defiance in the face of death. Roland was tired of playing games though and it appeared that she was going to have to be put down after all. He just intended to endure it was in a non-lethal fashion."Stop trying to threaten with that thing," she growled quietly. "Either use it or lose it." Roland smirked beneath the mask. He had already unmasked his mutation, something that no living person had survived. Since the cat was out of the bag, it might as well show its claws.

Roland dropped the gun. As it fell and Neena's eyes followed it, perhaps believing she could get it or kick it away, he springboarded off the sink and over her. Handcuffs appeared in his hand as he rolled into the shower on his back. He craned his neck back and clicked one link in his hand, then putting it around her wrist. The gun never hit the ground, returning to his suit. She spun around quickly and delivered a strong kick to his torso, possibly cracking a rib, even with the suit's protection. He spun with the force of the kick and caught her unlinked arm and pushed it toward the linked one, attaching it via mutation and then placing his foot on her lower back, pushing off and pushing her face first to the floor.

Hopefully, she would stop wriggling for a moment. Before she could start kicking or whatever she would do next, he pushed his foot firmly against her spine. He shook his head and reached back, quickly releasing the mask portion of the suit. A hiss of condensed air released as he pulled it free, reaching down and grabbing the chain which was firmly connecting her wrists behind her back. He pulled her up, wincing from the definitely cracked rib and stood her in front of the mirror. He was standing behind her now, his face also reflected. Hair slicked to his scalp from sweat, he looked into the mirror at her own look of confusion." You cracked my rib, think we can talk now?" He stepped back a few paces and was holding the cuffs in his hand, freeing her.

Neena's eyes automatically followed the falling gun, before she realized they should have stayed up. The narrow space worked to her disadvantage this time as he ended up behind her. She felt something touch her wrist as she spun to fight, but it wasn't flesh.

A smile curled the corner of her lips at the feeling of her kick connecting. It quickly vanished when he wrenched her arm behind her back. Her teeth clenched on a Swahili oath as she felt her shoulder twist painfully. Metal touched her other other wrist, and 'handcuffs' registered in her mind. The hit to her back sent her to the floor, knocking both the curse and the breath out of her body in a whoosh! Her glasses flew off and went skittering under the back of the commode. She felt the pressure of a foot in her back, and lay there for a moment, before a second, "Mavi!" followed the first.

She hadn't gotten her wind back before she was hauled back to her feet, so her breath came in short, angry gulps. Which was probably a good thing, considering who she saw staring back at her in the mirror.

" You cracked my rib, think we can talk now?"

Neena blinked, blinked again, then blinked some more. Abruptly her hands were loosed, and she grabbed at the sink to catch herself. She spun on her heel to stare at him. She wasn't often caught this off-guard, and in any normal person her reaction would have passed for shock. But as numerous thoughts clicked into place, her confusion rapidly melted into white-hot, and white-eyed, anger.

Words fought for space in her throat, but only two sets managed to make it past the vocal chords.

"Jordan?? Talk??" followed quickly by, "What in the hellpits if the Sahara are you doing here??"

Nehanda turned on her heel and blinked rapidly, seemingly shaken by the revelation.He certainly had expected as much. If fumes could come from her ears like in an old Tex Avery cartoon, they surely would have. It was perfectly understandable, though Roland still felt she should be happy that he hadn't shot her the multiple times he had the chance to. Holding the mask in his hand, he leaned back against the shower wall.

"Jordan?? Talk?? What in the hellpits if the Sahara are you doing here??"
He took a deep breath. No more lies. Whether or not she lived to see the end of the night was dependent on her own honesty, so he might as well be just as honest. "Roland, actually. Indeed, I am not Jordan Hornbuckle. Nor is there a bratty mutant daughter waiting around. I wanted to have a look around at the Mansion and I am accustomed to false pretenses. In fact, generally speaking, those who find that I am a mutant or hear my name generally never hear anything again. " He made his tone clear when spelling that last part out.

He doubted this would scare her nor would it smooth much over. Next attempt." I have dealt with many beautiful women over the years, but there's something about you. I can't put my finger on it. I really do feel something for you. Otherwise, I would have shot you already. "He put a little smile one and shrugged. " I hope you aren't too cross about it. However, what brings the greeter of the school for mutants here to this illustrious abode? I suppose we both have some secrets." Roland handed her shades back to her as a peace offering.

"Roland, actually."

She tilted her head, as if to say, 'What?'

"Indeed, I am not Jordan Hornbuckle. Nor is there a bratty mutant daughter waiting around. I wanted to have a look around at the Mansion and I am accustomed to false pretenses."

Reflexively Neena's fists clenched. Current fury aside, she was none too pleased to be told another intruder had made his way into her home, and with her help to boot. She quelled her chagrin, though; she was no mind reader or empath after all. And they couldn't turn away every person asking for a tour.

"In fact, generally speaking, those who find that I am a mutant or hear my name generally never hear anything again. "

Holding his gaze, her eyes briefly narrowed at what she took to be a veiled threat, and her chin lifted slightly.

" I have dealt with many beautiful women over the years, but there's something about you. I can't put my finger on it. I really do feel something for you. Otherwise, I would have shot you already. "

"Lucky me." Her growl dripped with sarcasm. She wasn't sure she believed him, now was she in the mood to give him the benefit of the doubt. Although, she was still standing there....

" I hope you aren't too cross about it."

"Oh no, not at all. I enjoy being lied to. Can't you tell by my cheerful demeanor?" By that point the emotion had drained from her eyes into her tongue, leaving behind a neutral wall of a facial expression.

"However, what brings the greeter of the school for mutants here to this illustrious abode? I suppose we both have some secrets."

She didn't bother denying that last statement. The sudden appearance of her glasses in his hand, and the motion of him holding them out, allowed her a brief moment to consider how to answer.

"I test security systems. It's a hobby." She warily reached for her glasses, keeping her eyes fixed on him. Her mind was attempting to make a connection from the vanishing and reappearing gun and other feats to a mutation. The movement happened to quickly to be telekinesis, so she settled for some version of teleportation.

"I don't usually have to deal with security risks other than myself."