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.
This was her brother and there was no way that Agnes was going to let the police officer tell her that she couldn’t interfere with a police matter. When they last met, he had tried to persuade her to not get involved, despite how insistent he was being. While she could respect the man’s opinion, he also was in no position to stop her. It would have been easier if he had just allowed her to work along with him, but she also understood that the man was just doing his job. That was fine, she would allow him to do his job, but that meant she was also going to have to do hers.
The police precinct was actually busier than she had originally figured it would be. There was a fair amount of activity the second she stepped in through the doors. Shouting filled the air, officers were issuing commands, and criminals were being obnoxious. Agnes had to shift herself to the side to keep from being bowled over by a man who was struggling against his handcuffs. The whole thing made her squeak in surprise but she knew that she couldn’t falter now. She needed to maintain her drive and focus. She was here for Dante, nothing else.
Boldly walking up to the front desk, Agnes cleared her throat until a young woman behind the power turned around to arch her eyebrow.
“Can I help you?”
Agnes gulped. This was her last chance to turn around and head out of this building. No one could fault her for doing that, right? It wasn’t as if she were quitting on her brother, she was just letting the police do their job. But that didn’t sit right with her. She knew that she couldn’t back away, no matter way. So, with a gulp she put on her bravest face (in this case, it was a sad one).
”Yes,” Agnes said with sadness in her voice. ”Can you direct me to the Mutant Related Crimes Department, please?” she looked down and off to the side. Her wings fluttered on her back nervously. ”I need to report an incident.”
Agnes wasn’t the best at lying but she knew that if it was something that she had to do, she could stomach it. For the woman at the counter, she painted a rather minor but scary ordeal that she had suffered. Essentially, she was a gardener who was being harassed by her neighbors, siblings, who wouldn’t stop pestering her. They egged her house, they called her with obscene messages, it was all together a completely terrible experience and she painted the picture of a woman who was just at her wits end. Her performance must have been somewhat good, at least as it earned a sympathetic look from the woman behind the counter, who then directed her down the hall and to where an officer was going to meet her.
As soon as she was out of sight of the desk jockey, Agnes breathed a sigh of relief. To be honest she didn’t fully know what her plan here was. She had the inklings of one but only a handful of the more important details. Mr. Cervantes had contacted her to update her on the progress of the case (she had to negotiate to at least get that much from the man) and learned that they were already investigating Allister Berry and that he would contact her when he had more information. That was all she needed to know. If they were investigating, they had to have a location for him, right?
Moving down the hall, she took a seat on the bench that she had been directed to wait for the officer. Sitting in silence, Agnes let her mind wander as she tried to ignore the fact that she had just lied to the police and was now a criminal. Despite all that, she simply didn’t care; she needed to help her brother, despite what everyone said. Maybe she should have told Rebecca, the Scot would have most certainly helped. Or, hell, anyone at Haven would have helped her. But she wanted to play this one close to the chest and hoped that she would need them.
“Ms. Blossom?”
At first she didn’t comprehend that she was being addressed. After all, when you live the entirely of your life as Ms. Nicholas, hearing another person’s last name tends to get drowned out in the process. But the name was also so strikingly familiar that Agnes still managed to allow her eyes to drift upwards. She tilted her head up as she watched a female officer approach her, an older woman with compassionate, yet stern look in her eyes.
“Ms. Jasmin Blossom, correct?”
”OH!” she stood up and nodded her head meekily. ”Yes. Sorry. I’m just…I’m still a little frazzled.”
“That’s already Miss, I understand.” The officer said as she stepped aside and gestured for her to follow. “My name is Detective Miri Castle. What seems to be the problem?
It was a terrifying picture that Agnes painted. As she and the detective walked down the hallway, towards the MRC offices, she found herself retelling events from her past that were slightly altered to make it seem like they happened recently, as well as were far more terrifying than they actually were. She told the story of the Morris siblings, Wayne and Mayra, twins neighbors who seemed to take it upon themselves to personally torture her with their obnoxious behavior. They spread rumors about her, they teased her incessantly, but things really started to take a turn when they began to call her at obscene hours, waking her up in the middle of the night. The final straw had come, however, when she found that a mirror in her apartment had been broken and the siblings claimed responsibility, even though they didn’t have access to her apartment in any way.
Fearing for her safety, especially in the current climate the country was taking against anyone who was different, Agnes had decided to come to the police to see if she could get any help for her problem. The officer was sympathetic, of course, but from her stance, without any hard evidence it didn’t seem like there was a lot that the police could do. But, it was clear that she wanted to aid Agnes as best she could so she would get as many details as she could.
“I’m so sorry to hear that you are having these trouble,” Miri said as she opened the doors that lead to the MRC division. “Let’s have a seat and you can give me their information. Deal?”
Agnes nodded her head. ”Thank you.”
Stepping into the larger room, Agnes peered around for a second, her eyes drifting up and down as she sought the one man that she was truly hoping to not see. Mr. Cervantes was a dedicated officer so it wouldn’t have surprised her if the man was at work. Still, despite that, she was hoping that either this would be his day off or that he was busy with a different case. The last thing she needed was for him to wander through and find her sitting with another officer, using a fake name. She’d be sent to jail for sure.
A careful touch on her arm turned her attention to the officer who smiled warmly and gestured to a nearby table. Agnes smiled apologetically as she stepped over and slipped into the seat that she was directed to. Sliding onto the seat, she gave the woman a soft smile as she crossed her legs and casually set her purse upon her lap.
Agnes had painted as strong a picture as she could. She repeated most of what she had said as they were walking through the halls but found that she was throwing in actual details from her experiences to just help alleviate her justification for coming in. She had explained at the Morris twins had been a menace to her, pranking and giving her the worst kind of attention. The final straw had come when it was stated that she had come home to find a broken mirror in her house, only to be razzed about it the next day when she was passing by her door and the twins were outside theirs. She hadn’t told anyone about the shattered mirror, she hadn’t even thrown it out in the garbage yet so there was no way that they could have known.
”I know they did it,” she said exhaustedly. ”I’m just at my wits end! I can’t take it anymore.”
Agnes was finding out that she was quickly becoming a rather elegant actress. It wasn’t the finest, Oscar worthy performance, but it was enough to stir the detective to raise her hand in an attempt to help Agnes to calm down. Of course Agnes wasn’t expecting much from this. It was all circumstantial evidence, at best, that wasn’t the point of all this. The point was that she needed to get into this room and, hopefully, get some clue as to what Mr. Cervantes had been working on concerning her brother.
But she would have to wait for the opportunity to find out that. She had the detective to deal with right now. The woman was easing her nerves, smiling gently and offering her a sympathetic ear. Agnes liked her and immediately felt bad for deceiving her. However, she was here for a very important reason and if that meant hurting someone’s feelings, they so be it.
“I’m sorry you are going through such an ordeal, Ms. Blossom.” Miri said. “However, without any actual proof like a confession, footage, etc., then there is not a lot I can do other than to issue them a warning.”
She reached into her desk to grab some forms. As she did that, Agnes spied the only pen that she could see on Miri’s desk. A quick glance around and she reached out, plucking it off the desk and subtly slipping it into her pocket. She did have a history as a pick-pocket, after all, so she was able to do that without notice. There could be more pens in the desk, but she had to try.
When Miri popped her head back up, complaint form in hand, she glanced to her desk and found that the pen she had was gone. She lifted papers, she checked her pencil mug, she looked everywhere but couldn’t seem to find any spot where her pen was. Scratching her head in a confused manner, she eyed Agnes for a second before asking.
“Did you see my pen?”
Agnes shook her head. ”I don’t think so.”
Miri sighed and grumbled. “Ugh. Getting so that even my co-workers are thieves. It’s like no one has pens. Alright, I’ll be right back," she said as she slipped the form over to Agnes. “Look over that. I’ll get a pen.” With that, she stood and headed off in search of a new pen.
Agnes nodded her head appreciatively as Miri got up in search for an elusive pen. She was thankful that most of the other officers in the room also seemed to be lacking pens and wondered if it was just good fortune smiling upon her or it was just the most random twist of luck. She was willing to believe either option at this point but all that mattered was that she buy herself some time. In a place like this, it wouldn’t take long for Miri to find a pen, but she needed her to stay distracted so that she could make her way over to Detective Cervantes’ desk. She wasn’t entirely sure what she would find but maybe an open file on his desk concerning the case would be helpful. She already had her phone’s camera on. All she had to do was snap a pic of an address to get started.
At least that was how simple it appeared in her head. Whether or not that would actually be the case, she just didn’t know. Still, she had to hold out hope and just try. She had to try for the sake of her brother if anything. He may have left her but the haggard look of his drawing was enough to prove to her that he had to be in danger. He wouldn’t willing work for those fanatics unless he had absolutely no other choice. What did they have on him?
She didn’t have time to think about this right now. Lifting her head from the desk, she peered around to see that the woman was on the other side of the room, chatting up another officer who was fishing in his desk for a pen. Seeing an opportunity to survey, Agnes lifted her head and peered around the room. For the most part she couldn’t see where the detective would sit. All the desks shared the same image of cluttered chaos. Her eyes flashed across nameplates, seeking out a familiar J or a C but finding nothing. But, just as she was about to turn back around in defeat, her eyes drifted behind Detective Castle’s desk and focus on one that was only two or three behind her’s – the brass nameplate said J. Cervantes. That was his.
However, as soon as she spotted the nameplate and had that suddenly burst of relief, it was replaced with dread. The leather jacket hanging over the back of the chair; she knew it far too well. It was the detective’s! He was here today. She cursed under her breath, damning her luck and trying to focus on the plan at hand. She needed to calm down. He wasn’t there but he was somewhere in the building. He could be out on lunch, he could be interviewing a victim, he could just be in the bathroom peeing! Either way, there were too many variables. She needed to hurry.
Subtly Agnes stood up from her chair and pretended to stretch. Her eyes were plastered on the Detective Cervantes’ desk, eyes slipping across the surface in vain hopes of finding something, anything that would indicate that he was actually working on her brother’s case. However, because of her distance from the desk and the fact that she couldn’t get a good view of the materials atop it, she barely managed to catch sight of words and filing numbers that made absolutely no sense to her. She needed a closer look but she needed to do it without drawing attention to herself. How?
As she coyly started to move towards the desk, she was stopped when she suddenly spied a pen changing hands over to Detective Castle. Dammit, there went her window. Hastily she sat back down, folding her hands on her lap as she nervously started to chew on her bottom lip. She needed to think of something, anything that would get herself back on track towards that man’s desk. She didn’t know how much time she would have to check it but she needed to hurt. However, there was another problem with this – this was a police precinct and she could only surmise that there were cameras everywhere. There was no way she could do this without being seen.
She needed to think and she needed to think fast. But just as quickly as her window for opportunity shrank before, it was shrinking even more now. She lifted her gaze just as Detective Castle returned to her desk, sat down with a sigh, and held up a pen, a triumphant smile on her weathered lips.
“I guess I got lucky. Here is your p—“
”I have to use the restroom!” Agnes suddenly pronounced. Her suddenness made the detective flinch and turn an odd eye towards her. Agnes gulped and tried to tone it down. ”Um…I…I need to use the restroom. Where is it, please?”
The detective continued to eye her before she turned and gestured to a nearby hallway. There she gestured. “Um…just down that hallway, passed two doors on the right. Can’t miss it.”
Agnes nodded her thanks and gave her a small smile in return. ”Thank you. So much. I’ll be right back.” Hastily she stood, turned on her heel and headed towards the hall. As she walked, she didn’t turn back but she could feel the detective’s eyes were on her. Instead she tried to remain focused on the task at hand – passing Detective Cervantes’ desk.
It was like marching to her death. Okay, well, maybe not THAT dramatic, but it was nerve-wracking nonetheless. As she moved down the hall, she found that she wanted so badly to turn and see if she were being stared at but so far she knew that she couldn’t. If she drew any unnecessary attention to herself, she was going to jeopardize her entire mission. No, she needed to just keep her head down and look uninterested as she made her way to the hall with the bathroom. But first, she needed to make sure she could get a quick glance at that desk, but how would she see anything? A thought occurred to her then, a thought she needed to act on fast.
Pulling her phone from her pocket, she held up to her ear to mime taking a call but look perplexed when no one was on the line. Stopping next to Mr. Cervantes’ desk, she shook her head, mumbling about prank calls as she subtly turned on her phone’s camera. Turning, as if to get a signal, she carefully pointed the phone at the detective’s desk and took several, quick photographs. Before immediately swiping out and turned to face the hall again. She only hoped that she was subtle enough.
Phone returned to her pocket, Agnes pressed on, into the hall and headed down towards the clearly indicated Ladies restroom. A quick glance back to make sure no one was watching, Agnes breathed a small sigh of relief. For the moment, it seemed, that she had actually gotten away with what she was attempting to do. But all that depended on what those damned pictures showed. Would they reveal anything or was it going to be a bust? She took a deep breath as she pushed in the bathroom door.
Inside it was rather plain, white tiles everywhere. A couple of stalls looked to be occupied but the one at the end wasn’t. So, with a course set, Agnes moved through the restroom, pushing the stall open and slipping inside. Standing in the stall, she took a deep breath as she pulled out her phone from her pocket and immediately moved to her gallery where she started to swipe through pictures, trying to find any that were clear. However, sadly, she had moved a bit too much so most of the pictures came out rather blurred.
”****…” she whispered to herself. Shaking her head she tried to calm down and moved to the last couple: both were perfect. A sigh of relief and she started to peer closely at the images. There had to be something on these. There had to be.
Coffee mug. Desk. Papers. Files. Pens. Paper clips. A novel by Jane Austen. She sighed, so far nothing seemed to be relevant to what she was looking for. However, she didn’t give in and instead kept digging, kept hunting, kept trying to find anything that could hold any relevance to her brother’s case. She even stared as hard as she could to files where the labels were just off the screen, only giving her the small hint of their titles. She wanted desperately to be right but it was quickly becoming a possibility that maybe she was completely and utterly wrong. Ugh, the thought of that made her sick.
But just as she was getting ready to turn her phone off, she stopped when her eyes caught one of the files on the screen. It was easy to miss. It was a manila folder that blended in with the rest on the man’s desk. The only indication that it was there was the label with the red sticker on it that said in very fainted letters LAS DAN. When she first saw it she thought it was just the name of some store or a street gang new to town, but as she zoomed in, she could sweat what she originally thought to be a flick was a comma. It didn’t say LAS DAN, it said LAS, DAN. It was a long shot but there was the possibility that the file said NICHOLAS, DANTE. It was her only hope, but how could she set eyes upon it?
She gulped as her mind raced to trying and think of anything that could help her to peer through that folder for only a few seconds. But what? Politely asking seemed out of the question, but aside from just straight up stealing it, she didn’t know what else she could do. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, popping her lips obnoxiously in thought. It was a bad habit she never broke out of.
Running the scenarios in her head, she could feel her anxiety starting to rise. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all. She could have just waited at home for Jorge to call and now it was feeling more and more like it was too late. What if she messed up the rest of her life, now? Haven was great but could they really help her out of a jam like this? As sweet as they were, she didn’t want to put Nate or Devon or Sveta or Max through any of this. It wasn’t right. No, she had to solve this problem herself. Still, it would help if the bugs in her chest weren’t getting so agitated. Their buzzing was beginning to cause a rather large distra—
She paused. She was getting the inklings of an idea…
This was stupid. This was stupid. This was stupid. Agnes couldn’t have felt worse about this idea but it was the only one that she had. She needed to get her hands on that folder, she needed to see what the detective knew about her brother, and she needed to investigate this matter on her own. Unfortunately she just didn’t have any other choice. She didn’t have the stealth or thieving abilities that someone like Nate had, but she had other aspects about her that she would be able to utilize. If this worked, she should be able to get her hands on that folder, if it didn’t, well, she hoped she looked good in an orange jumpsuit.
Licking her lips as she exited the bathroom, she took another shaky breath as she stepped one more into the department. She could see that Detective Castle was still at her desk, but she seemed to be preoccupied on the phone. Good, that would help her to set up what needed to be set up. Stepping back onto the floor, she took the long way around, keeping the back of Detective Castle’s head to her as she came up behind Mr. Cervantes’ desk. She tried to not slow down or look too interested in it, she was just casually strolling back to the nice officer that wanted to help her.
God, she was already feeling bad for that. However, as she stepped, she could feel the crawling that slipped down her legs and onto the smooth floor. Back in the bathroom, she had expelled her roaches but didn’t allow them to fall to the ground. Instead she crept just inside of her pant legs, falling out with each step. She maneuvered herself closer and closer to Cervantes’ desk, her pant legs dropping roaches with each foot fall. It wasn’t until she was directly near the man’s desk, and the stack of folders she had snapped a picture of when her plan finally pieced together.
Just as she stepped close enough to the desk, the woman finally set down her phone and looked over her shoulder towards the bathroom. Upon seeing Agnes, she gave her a momentary smile of politeness but just as she did, Agnes acted. She squeaked, pretending to trip, her hand landing upon Jorge’s desk and push that small stack of files to the ground. Just as she did, Agnes fell forward, landing down on one knee, wincing.
”Ow. Oooh,” This drew attention. A few officers looked over and headed over to help, but it was Detective Castle who would respond. She kneeled down in front of Agnes, peering at her with concern.
“Are you okay? Did you fa—AHHH!!” the woman suddenly screamed.
Skittering across the fallen files, onto her pant legs and onto the desk, were the legions of roaches she had been carefully dropping to the ground. This immediately caused the woman to jump up into a little dance, as well as other detectives who were slipped away, their faces showing that they in no way were willing to deal with an infestation like this.
Agnes mimicked their screams, jumping up and dancing away, carefully pulling with her, and hiding, the file that clearly said NICHOLAS, DANTE on the table and shoving it under her shirt. Shaking off more of the roaches, Agnes followed several other officers as they skittered for any place that was not this department. Before long, Agnes was in the hall, heading out of the building as quickly and as subtly as possible. Her bugs would meet her outside and, afterwards, she would head home and see exactly what she could see about her brother.
Hours later, Agnes was sitting in her apartment, looking over the file that she had managed to nab from the police precinct. God this was so illegal. The guilt she felt was beginning to pile on higher and higher in her head but she had to keep reminding herself that she did this for a reason. She did this to help her brother and that was all that was important to her. Besides, she would anonymously mail back the file the second that she found any useful information from it. She wasn’t a criminal after all; at most she was just a vigilante – of sorts.
Having changed into a relaxing pair of sweatpants with just a tanktop on, Agnes sat back on her couch, looking over the file that she had pulled from the precinct. It took time and effort for her to gain the courage to open that file, but eventually she did. It was rather disgusting, really, the photos of the victims who had been beaten so badly. Much of the information in it was what Mr. Cervantes had showed when he had greeted her at her door. However, there were a few tender bits of information that weren’t there before.
Reading over the case file carefully, she could see that it was almost always the same group that was doing the attack – all led by Allister Berry. She shook her head as she stared at the artist rendition of the man again and again. Just looking at his face cause the anger to swell up in her chest. Just exactly what was he doing to her brother? The only way Dante was cooperating with any of this was if they had something on him, but what? She sighed, grinding her teeth as she turned to a different page. So far all of this was just witness testimonial. There had to be something for her to follow up on.
So far she couldn’t see any addresses or anything that would indicate a place to look. Even all the attack points at been laid out throughout the city with no seeming pattern except for being late at night and targeting single mutants. She supposed she could just gallivant around late at night in hopes of being attacked, but that was just inviting more trouble than it was worth. No there had to be an angle that she wasn’t thinking of.
She continued to stare at the information presented to her and, begrudgingly eyed her phone. Rebecca would help, she knew that she would. But with things going well between her and Nessa, the last thing she wanted was to throw another wrench in her plans. She had to make a promise not to pull in the lovely Scot unless it was absolutely necessary. For now she would just focus on trying to solve this puzzle herself. But, god, where to even start?
The evening descended upon her fast. Hours slipped out of her grasp and Agnes had grown blurry-eyed, reading the same lines over and over and over again. She wanted to rip apart and burn the documents if she thought it would get her any answers. But she knew that was not something she could do. These documents had to made it back to Mr. Cervantes or she would be in even worse trouble for destroying it. So, instead Agnes merely set the file down and wandered into her bathroom to take a long soak. Hopefully that would relax the tension in her muscles long enough for her to think about what to do next.
Sitting in her bathtub, Agnes let the warm water lap over her pale body, sighing as bubbles swirled all about her. It may not have been the best time to actually partake in a bubble bath, but the soothing lavender and mint smell helped to slip its way into her tense muscles and calm her body. It was a wondrous feeling, one that she was thankful to be able to partake in. Just ten years ago, she never thought that something like this would have even been a possibility and now she was actually enjoying it without guilt.
The thought made her smile, but it also reminded her of a number of things she didn’t want to recall. She remembered why she was on the streets, why she had suffered as much as she had. Idly her hands drifted across the places on her stomach where the old scars used to be but had vanished years ago thanks to that unicorn-mutant. It was her parents who had driven her out, her parents who had made her struggling from day-to-day, almost lost in the gutters of the city. It was her parents and their stupid congregation that chanted, held her down, branded her, and beat themselves with those heavy damn books that they always were trying to give away…
Her eyes snapped open. Stupid! How could she be so stupid! Of course! She remembered one of those zealots of her parents. That stupid spinster, Miss Bell…Miss…DELIAH BELL! There was that one woman who looked familiar in the file, that one woman whom Agnes had kept returning to, over and over again, her memory poking and prodding at her like a thorn. She remembered her cruel face and behavior which was matched only by her parents.
Miss Deliah Bell owned a religious book store / self-publisher. She printed the manuscript that her parents used and provided them with the exact same books however many times that they wanted them, especially for giving away while preaching on the streets. For half-a-second Agnes considered hopping out of her shower, grabbing her phone, and contacted the detective. But she stopped herself. No, if Deliah was still in the cult then she could lead her to Dante.
It was risky, but it was the only way she was going to get to her brother before the police.
Agnes had only had minimal experience with this. Ever since she had joined Haven, she had been trying to push the limits of what she was able to do. For tonight, she was actually putting the more stealthy aspects of her training to work. Tonight she was camped out on the roof of a rundown and all-together nasty seeming building. Below her she could hear the sounds of domestic violence, arguments, and profanity the likes of which she had rarely ever experienced before. As much as she wanted to run down and kick in the teeth of Bernard who was arguing with his side-lover, Greg, Agnes needed to focus on the building across the way.
The Lighthouse bookstore was one that she was all too familiar with. She remembered many times, when she was out with her parents handing out leaflets and books, that they would normally stop here in order to gather the supplies. From her vantage point across the street, she could see that the shop hadn’t changed one bit. It was still decrepit, scary, and even from across the street she could practically smell burned glass of the candles that she never swapped out.
Shaking her head as she sat down, a pair of binoculars set over her eyes, she kept her gaze locked solely on the store. At the moment it was closed but she knew that Miss Bell lived in the apartment above it. As a matter off act, she still did. Every now and again, Agnes would turn her binoculars upwards to check the windows and see the older woman moving through her home. Talking to her would do no good; actually she waiting to see where the woman went. It was her hopes that should could track her and hopefully, maybe, find out where the cultists were now meeting so that she could free her brother from them. But what was the likelihood of that at this point?
A shake of her head and she turned her gaze of her binoculars away from the apartment window and back down to the store below. So far all was safe, sound, and quiet. Maybe they weren’t going to meet tonight? If that there the case, she was going to have to come back. It didn’t matter, though. She would keep returning, keeping observing, until finally someone led her to Dante. Besides, aside from the philharmonic, there wasn’t a lot that was occupying her evenings, so this was as good a way to spend them as any.
Stretching her back a little, Agnes sighed as she gave another glance to the storefront before she began to entertain the thoughts of heading away to grab herself some dinner. She didn’t think to bring anything with her except for a few snack items and that was hardly going to last her the length of the night.
VZAP!
Agnes arched her brow. A strange sound cut through the air, a sound that she wasn’t able to immediately place. When living in New York City, you become accustomed to the sounds of the New York ambiance, but this was somehow out of place. It sounded like electricity popping through the air. Her head tilted, she turned and looked about for the source but couldn’t really recall where she had heard it the strongest. Maybe it was just a trick of the ears or something benign like that. Clearly it was just her imagi—
VZAP!!
It was louder and closer now. With it ringing in her ears as clear as a bell, Agnes snapped her attention towards where she heard it, the book store across the street. She narrowed her eyes, lifting up her binoculars and peering through them in search of the source. Unfortunately she couldn’t see it at first, only empty streets and vagrants wandering about. But a flash of movement sparkled in the corner of her eye and there, inside the shop, she watch a scientific wonder as what could only be described as spacetime contracted into a single point before plop back into place like a rubberband and revealing an individual now inside of the store. Not just any mystery person – but Dante himself.
It was hard to look at him. In some part of her brain, part of her prayed that it wasn’t him, but as the seconds ticked away, the more she saw him move so robotically through the store, the more she realized that it was indeed Dante. But what was he doing at The Lighthouse? He despised that place more than she did. He would tease, constantly, saying that it would be better off burned down or something along those lines. She couldn’t argue with that. It would be better burned to nothing but ash, but what was he doing there now?
As she peered through the binoculars, she watched her brother move without personality or passion. He wasn’t a zealot, but he wasn’t a rebel either. What was wrong with him? As he moved through, Agnes couldn’t help but take a few seconds to just observe she slow and ragged frame. It was like staring at a ghost and not the young man she knew, or used to know.
He was just as tall as he was back when they were kids but he was much thinner now, haggard looking. He looked almost like a combination of malnutrition and lack of sleep had become regular parts of his life. Agnes remembered many students looking like that at Julliard when it came time for final exams. They would stay up to all hours, maybe even forgo sleep all-together, as stress ate away at their bodies and minds. Dante looked as sleep-deprived and malnourished as anyone she had ever seen. And yet, even then, he still wasn’t falling or tripping over. He moved with precise purpose and nothing less.
Something was wrong. This wasn’t the brother that she remembered. As a matter of fact, he looked so wore and faded, like a ghost that was getting ready to vanish from the world. Staying on him, she watched as he finally turned and revealed what he was doing – he was gathering books? Leaflets? He was picking up supplies for another public sermon, exactly like the ones her parents engaged in. She grumbled under her breath, there was no way he was doing this willingly.
Setting her binoculars down, Agnes gave one last cautionary glance to the apartment windows. No sign of Bell. She was probably down for the night and was giving the cultists free reign of her store whenever they needed supplies. Assured that everything was clear, Agnes shrugged off her jacket to reveal the insect wings sticking out of her back. Immediately they buzzed to life, lifting her off the ground. Taking to the air, she made a beeline for the alley between the book shop and the neighboring deli that was already closed for the evening. Setting down upon the trash strewn alley, she made her way to the back door and tested the lock. Of course it was locked, but reaching up, she pulled a pair of bobby pins from her hair.
It took longer than she would have liked but Agnes worked as fast as she could. If she could just focus and concentrate on what she was doing, she was sure that she could have picked the lock far quicker. But because she was too preoccupied by both thoughts of her brother and in trying to keep an eye out for anyone who could be walking by, she needed kept screwing up. Still, after the tenth time of not getting the tumblers into the right spot, she hung her head, took a deep breath, and continued going. That helped to steady her hands a little but she was far from satisfied with her progress.
Still, with persistence and fortitude, Agnes pushed on until, finally, she heard that satisfying CLICK of the lock be successfully undone. With a breath of relief, she turned the hair pins until the lock was fully turned and she was able to push the door open. As it swung inside, the scent of stale candles assaulting her nose, Agnes did her best to keep from retching. This place smelled far, far more familiar than she was comfortable admitting.
But she was here with a purpose. However much she wanted to turn tail and run, she knew that was beyond her choice now. So, stepping inside of the musty, dark shop, Agnes quelled her churning stomach and softly closed the door behind her. It was almost too dark to see but there was a small beam of light that cut through the floor at the far end of the room. This must have been storage. Straightening up, Agnes crept across the storage room, bumping into boxes along the way until she reached the door. There she carefully pulled it open and peeked her head out into the shop.
Once inside, the young violinist took a shaky breath as she peered out. She could see a small hall and the dark shop at the other end. There she could hear the sounds of boxes being moved and papers rustling. That had to be Dante. Steeling herself for the confrontation to come, Agnes moved deeper into the room until she reached a corner. From there she peered around the edges until she spied movement between the shelves. Creeping forward all the more, she remained as silent as she could manage before finding a spot that would allow her to peek without being seen.
Peering around the edge, she immediately caught sight of him; he looked even worse up close. Sucking in a breath as she watched him put more books into his boxes, she carefully counted down until she had enough nerve to finally step out and greet him. She gulped again, stood fully in sight, and stared.
His back was to her as he worked and she had been silent enough that he hadn’t caught onto her presence. She only allowed a few seconds to pass before she cleared her throat, causing his spine to stiffen. It was too late to turn back.
She barely could comprehend what happened. As she stood there, waiting for her brother to turn around and face her, she watched as the very fabric of reality seemed to bend around him like taut plastic wrap being pushed in with a pencil. There was a single point that bent all spacetime and it was focused solely on Dante himself. And then, just as strange as it all appeared, it vanished as it all snapped into place, taking Dante into nothingness with it.
VZAP!!
Her eyes widened as she searched for where he had vanished too. A few cautious steps were taken towards the spot where he had stood but there was nothing. That strange sound still rebounded in the air, exactly as she had heard it when she was on the rooftop. Only this time it seemed as if the sound was not dissipating. It hung, heavy in the air, until there was another VZAP!! and pain exploded out of the side of her cheek.
Agnes shouted in pain, her wings fluttering as she stumbled off to the side, grabbing hold of the bookshelf to keep from fully collapsing to the floor. She tried to catch her breath but another sudden blow to her abdomen (provided by a swift kick) immediately knocked the rest of the air from her lungs and sent her down to her knees.
VZAP!!
No cries fell from her lips. Reality kept undulating around her like churning water. The next she knew there was a presence behind her as a strong hand gripped her hair and roughly pulled her head back, exposing her throat. The harsh, jagged point of a blade was pressed against her jugglar as a haunted, male voice began to speak in latin.
” Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.”
He was trying to exorcize her. Shakily she struggled to catch her breath, looking up a the wide, haunted eyes of the man she knew as her brother. She barely managed to squeak out words through the spit and blood that collected in her mouth.