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.
>>"No, that has never happened before. If anything, its actually usually the other way around, as in I can't stop it. The 'control issues' were sort of in that respect, if you know what I mean."
"Strange," Lenna assented. "But I'm assuming the opposite control issue could arise. It's not impossible. It might be best to rest a bit before trying your powers again..." She added silently as she tapped her finger on the table. A glance towards the kitchens. Her focus returned to Domingo in the form of a smirk. "Don't worry about shaming anyone." She laughed. "So long as you cover your own side of the bill, I'll be happy to let it rest. And you're forgiven." A nod. "We all have our days."
It was still strange his powers hadn't worked in her presence. The thought nagged Lenna as she waited for the waitress to return. The occasional malfunction was easily dismissed as mutant error, but to repeat it... was strange. Perhaps further testing on that hypothesis would be required. For now--
The waitress returned with their fresh tea. She plucked up the dirtied cups and slid them onto her tray, quickly replacing them with all the grace of Indiana Jones.
>>"Thank you." Domingo told her.
>>The waitress, who had seen him through the window, gave Domingo a long, hard look. Then she leaned over the table in between the two and, with a sense of the secretive yet mischievous in her voice, whispered every so quietly. "I can walk through walls."
"!!!" (With three exclamation points). Lenna was stunned. "Very impressive," she murmured. But how would this affect their Chinese dining experience? Would the food... come quicker?! Lenna gave a sugar sweet smile and waited to see the results.
After the waitress had wandered off back into the kitchen (into which she entered through the door), Domingo realised that Lenna had an opinion of mutants different to the moral majority. In fact Lenna was still talking to him, even sitting there with him, she didn't seem to mind at all that Domingo was a mutant. He'd allowed the unfortunate event a while before to cloud his judgment over the general human consensus in relation to their political opinions on mutants. Back home, the scope of the mutant 'problem' was brushed under the carpet, kept as secret and away from the glaring eyes of the media as possible. Obviously this would never be achieved for very long, and anti-mutant feeling had doubled over the previous five years, as far as reports suggested. Even so, the topic wasn't given the same media concentration as in other parts of the world. Domingo was used to being shunned, just not in as huge a way as young mutants in other social situations.
In a country as vast and culturally diverse as the good ol' U S of A though, it was a lot more open and publicly discussed. This had seen human-mutant relations diminish dramatically, and Domingo was well aware of this. He'd already experienced it after only a day in the States.
In spite of this, and as Domingo perceived Lenna to be relatively unconcerned and tolerant of him being a mutant, he decided to tell Lenna why he was even in New York.
"Well, as you now know. I'm a mutant." Domingo spoke in a semi-hushed voice. "I came here to New York City to look for the ones who can help me gain control over my abilities. I've read so much about them, I just know they are the ones I have to be with. I am looking to find the mutant haven where young people like me are educated to use their abilities to help others." Domingo stopped for a sceond. "I am looking for the infamous Institute. The stories I've read about these brave men and women, who despite fierce and even violent potential oppression, decide to stand for equality. It is a cause I believe in, and want to do my part to assist."
Domingo looked intensely into Lenna's eyes, as if the words he had said were some kind of mantra or personal mission statement. He was being as truthful as he had ever been before and the words that left his lips were wrapped up in envelopes of passion and enthusiastic focus.
"It is my reason for being here. It is my reason full stop."
>>"Well, as you now know. I'm a mutant." Domingo spoke in a semi-hushed voice.
Lenna nodded. He was.
>>"I came here to New York City to look for the ones who can help me gain control over my abilities. I've read so much about them, I just know they are the ones I have to be with.
Again, another nod. They probably were. The man earlier had told him he was looking for a place he belonged. A place among mutants sounded like just what the doctor had ordered. She was sure he'd fit in with those of his own kind. So long as he kept his head low and did nothing to spike the drinks of the anti-mutant supremacists wandering around New York all-too little prescience. She'd worked alongside mutants before. They were far more accepting of others than the idiots of New York. And again, it wasn't a matter of superior race that she disagreed with and chose to call them idiots over. It was the fact they were the same damn race, and the only difference that separated them was a few strands of inexplicably-mutated DNA. People were people, and damn it all if one couldn't treat another person with the faintest ounce of respect. Strangers on the street had just as much right towards freedom from oppression as some idiot's own family.
Growing up as she had, Lenna had learned everything she could about the kindness of others. The fisherman had all been good to the little girl on the pier. The old women fed her when she came around hungry. She played ball with the kids on the street, and apart from the occasional bully, they were great.
They all understood the basic principle 'treat others as you'd want to be treated'. They lived good lives, by whatever philosophies or religious texts they read. They had common sense and the decency not to be dense.
A step up from extremists in any part of the world, Lenna thought. And honestly, the repetitive calls of anti-anything mobs had gotten tiresome. If what he was saying was true, then Hell. Lenna liked the sound of these guys almost as much as Slate.
Lenna locked eyes with him as he spoke his mantra emphatically.
>>"It is my reason for being here. It is my reason full stop."
"It's a good reason, of that I've no doubt. I haven't heard much of this place myself. Still," Her grip on her tea cup tightened as she nodded at him with all the 'serious' in the world. "It sounds like an inspirational place."
"Er, hey." The waitress awkwardly stumbled back to the table, tray of food in hand. Lenna's eyes snapped up to focus on her meal as it balanced precariously. She rose quickly, steadying the girl's tray and gently helped their lunch towards sanctuary. The waitress thanked her nervously, a bit shaken. She slid into the booth beside Lenna, eyes fixated on Domingo, sense of wonder in her voice. "I'm sorry. It's just... I couldn't help but hear you speak. It made me a little lightheaded. I've heard of this school in passing, but never spoken about like that.The way you talk about it... makes it seem almost too good." Her voice faltered.
Lenna blinked at the woman's expression, stealthily slipping her own food away from the aura of clumsiness that bogged down the air around Miss Waitress. She stuck a fork in it, and was done.
For the moment, food had her full concentration. The conversation could wait. She glanced between girl and guy sheepishly, chewing on her cud. They could converse. That was fine. For the moment, she'd stick to listening.
Lenna was right. It did. It sounded like a utopia, a beautiful haven where young mutants lived and learnt together, both of the outside world and of themselves. Of their abilities. Because thats what they had, they would be told, abilities.
Domingo was staring into his teacup as he dreamt about what the Institute would be like. The first time he'd heard about it was on a mutant website, two years before. He was in a public library, so no authorities could trace his address when they found out what he was searching for on the world wide web. He'd read about it then, and the image of the place grew in his mind, becoming more mystical, more magical, more mythical. Then, the waitress arrived with the food. After Lenna shot up fast to assist the nervous waitress, and to make sure the couple weren't wearing their meals! After the food was set down, she leant across to speak to the pair.
"I'm sorry. It's just... I couldn't help but hear you speak. It made me a little lightheaded. I've heard of this school in passing, but never spoken about like that.The way you talk about it... makes it seem almost too good..." As her voice faded, she looked down at the ground. This young lady didn't seem happy. It was almost as if she was feeling the way Domingo himself had been feeling, little over a year ago.
Lenna had tucked right into her meal, but Domingo thought it right to ask the wall-evading waitress more about what it was she had "heard."
"Excuse me, but what else have you heard about the Institute? I arrived here today, this very afternoon, and my aim is to go there. I cam all the way from London. Please, I would like to know what else you know about the place I hope to find." Domingo was sitting up straight in his seat, his face gleaming with excitement. 'This girl might know where it is, she could be my link to the Institute. There's a reason for everything.'
The waitress saw how interested Domingo was, his eyes wide and his mind poised to take in everything she had to say. "Well, there was this young couple in here once, a few months ago, and..." A shout came from the kitchen.
"SARAH! Get back in here! These meals are going cold."
Sarah the waitress looked back at the kitchen, then turned to Domingo, apologetically. "I'm sorry, I..."
"Its okay. I understand." The young Spaniard turned to his food disappointed. As the waitress scurried off back towards the kitchen, Domingo eyed his plate and the steaming contents spread across it. He looked across the table at Lenna. "How's the food?" He began to eat his own meal, before contemplating how much Lenna had revealed about herself.
"So, you know a bit about me, what about you? Why you here in New York, Lenna?" Domingo hoped his question wouldn't be perceived as prying, he was just genuinely interested in his new friend.
"Potential work," Lenna replied, guarded. "A man offered me a job a while back, and I told him I'd think on it. I've done some thinking, now I'm here to see if he's still up to go through with the offer."
Her thoughts drifted to Slate, the little engine that could. He thought he could, he thought he could, he thought he could bring peace to humanity. Or at least his own degree of subtle control that acclimated others to his vision of 'peace'. The idea was rich. He was rich. For a down-on-her-luck ex-mercenary with a penchant for pain, maybe whatever hopeful future he envisioned was enough. Contributing to the greater good, yadda yadda. He’d offered her a paycheck and a future.
He’d helped erase a part of her past. That was enough to gain an ounce of Lenna-Loyalty. An ounce was plenty. Few got more than that. More got less. And so...
She stirred her food distractedly, thinking on the matter.
When the word 'work' was mentioned, Domingo remebered something his father back in London had said to him. It was during a telephone conversation in the aiport before he'd even flew out of his adopted country...
"I'll fund this trip for you, but not forever. If you decide your future lies in America then you must be prepared to do it on your own. I have brought you up to look after yourself, Domingo. When you said that its your life, I agreed. But you must agree also that as it is your life, you will have to manage to pay your own way." Domingo's father, Juan Manuel Agravar was a top football coach, at the peak of his profession, a status he had achieved through his own special abilities. The abilities, of course, being his talent with a ball at his feet. But nevertheless, he had used what God had given him and utilised it in such a way he would be respected, revered and accepted for what he made of it. Domingo wanted for the same thing to apply to him, but with his special ability his mutation. Maybe he possessed an impossible dream, but he had to believe that in this world, one day, maybe just maybe, he could be revered and accepted for his own ability.
"Work. If I end up staying here, I'm going to have to think about that one myself. Maybe I'll look you up sometime if I need a job myself!" Domingo joked in a semi-serious way. It didn't occur to him what line of work it could be that Lenna was talking about. 'Well, it can't be exterminating mutants, anyway,' Domingo thought.
Eliana had always said 'Don't play with your food.' When she'd said it, she'd meant something a bit beyond the basic plate of pork-fried rice. It had been a mantra, a humble refrain. Don't act beyond your means or overextend. Never give an inch, and never toy. Lie, cheat, or steal your way through life. Morals were a philosophical gray, made by people and perforated by perpetrators of the human condition.
So Lenna stopped stirring her Chinese food. She didn't want to be rude. Her attention drew back to Domingo's dialogue like the string of a bow. A stray thought had struck her interest. Straight in the Bull's Eye.
"Sure," Lenna nodded, pulling an iPhone from her coat's pocket. She flicked through the screens, then settled on the address book, bringing up the place for a new entry. The letters D, O, and M flashed on-screen. She set the phone down on the table in front of her, and pushed it over to his side. "If you want, you can put in your contact information. I can shop around and see about finding a job for you. I've got a few friends in New York who might be able to help." Then her hands went to her inner pocket, carefully shifting a notepad from within. She flicked it open and threw down her alias and cell-number, then passed the slip of paper along to Domingo. "And that's me. So, what kind of job were you looking for...?" She fished.
His answers from here on out would help decide what course she took. Her eyes were narrowed imperceptibly, weighing his reactions. From what she'd gathered in Paris, Slate often hired talented young mutants. Depending on where Domingo's loyalties lay, the job was likely to differ. From stealing a painting to helping out building a school in Columbia, Lenna had a feeling Slate would be willing to find something... mutants that could defy the laws of gravity or fly didn't fall into one's lap often. This man seemed to desire a place he could fit in. Maybe somewhere his talents could be put to use... where he could help the world? Slate had recently helped the country of Columbia by cracking down on in-fighting and drug dealers. That sounded world-changing enough to Lenna. Perhaps it'd strike Domingo on a resonant chord?
Leaning over the table to reach for Lenna's phone, the smile on Domingo's face couldn't be hidden. This could be a real opportunity to maintain his stay in New York. And also, he'd managed to gain an acquaintance, someone who seemed to be confident and self-assured, someone who he believed he could maybe call a friend.
They'd always seemed to come and go, friends. He and his brother Raul had always hung out in the same groups, but Domingo was always the outsider due to Raul's all-round popularity. Domingo himself had always been liked, but he was constantly over-shadowed by his brother, older than Domingo by fifteen mintues. He'd never minded though, he always enjoyed the fact he was Raul's brother, he had pride in him. Until Domingo's abilities shattered both their dreams at once.
"Okay, so there's my number. And thats the hotel I'm staying in, at least until I either run out of money or find somewhere else." Domingo passed the phone back to Lenna, and hurried to scoop up the slip, folding it carefully and placing it in his wallet.
As he finished the remnants of his meal, which he had enjoyed so much and eaten so fast he'd forgotten what it was that he'd ordered, Domingo thought long and thought hard about what it was he would do.
"Hmmm, all I've done since I was a kid is play football. School and football. My parents have always been strict about school. And football, well, nothing else mattered in my house!" His eyes wandered to the ceiling, considering what he could actually do.
"I s'pose I'd be out to get what ever I could. If I called home and told papa that I had gotten a job, whatever it was, I'm sure he'd be happy." Domingo wanted to make his parents proud of him. He wanted to prove he was of some worth. And if it meant utilising his abilities, then even better.
"I consider myself to be a loyal person, so if somebody was to give me a chance, I'd be indebted to them and would give my all not to fail them. I mean, if I worked here, for example, I'd do my utmost to be the best waiter on the block. I'd be the best God-damn waiter in New York!" He felt like he was selling himself. Shamelessly. But what he said was honest and true. Domingo was sitting bolt upright in his chair, his arms layed out on the table in a rudimentary but open display of truth and sincerity. He was looking at Lenna through serious eyes. He was selling himself. 'But thats what you gotta do, Domingo. Sell yourself... At least I don't have to worry about being memorable, anyway. Not after today...'
School... and football. Glad to know the kid was academic. And the tackling... It was a start. Football players often arranged in formations, learned the patterns to overwhelm the opposition, and worked well in teams. "Teamwork is a good skill to have, in any and all lines of work." Lenna quipped as he spoke his part. The phone slid back into her inner pocket, momentarily exposing a hint of black Kevlar vest underneath leather. Like a shirt.
She nodded slowly. The man valued family. He'd thought of his father first when he considered who'd care about the line of work he fell into. That was interesting. Lenna had met family-men before. In bars, in clubs. In clubs with bars that they really shouldn't have been in, being the family men they were. More often-than-not, senators made excellent family men. And jealous wives made even better fat paychecks. She smirked in reverence of the glory days.
"Loyalty is also valued. In any type of company." As was doing one's best. Yes. Domingo was shaping up to be quite the interesting candidate for that particular line of work. Friendly and loyal and thankful. Willing to live indebted to another. She'd met people like that too in her line of work. Some of Cortez's butlers had been the nicest men she'd ever met. "And if the work you were asked to do called upon you to use your powers? I'd imagine the people at that mansion of which you speak might call for similar displays. Can't show the world the good of mutantkind without occasionally putting on a show, I suppose."
The conversation was flowing, Domingo sensing that he'd made headway in one aspect of his 'new life' in this new country. The aspect of working and, in turn, self-sufficiency. Independence. He didn't want to rely on his father. Getting a job and being paid were the first steps.
It seemed his brief but honest monologue had sparked a positive reaction in Lenna. At least he hoped so. She had listened to what he had to say, which had been quite a lot over the course of the time they'd spent together so far. Coming to the rescue of his underwear bag had been quite the act of kindness, and one that Domingo was extremely grateful for. Not thinking him a freak when the subject of his mutation arose also meant a lot to the young visitor. The fact she had the patience to stay and eat with him after he'd panicked and ran outside neurotically to test his abilities said a lot of her character and personality. If Domingo had learnt anything today, it was loyalty and friendship can be born out of the strangest situations. Lenna was proof.
"You're right. As for the people up at the mansion, they'd be able to help me hone my powers. At least I hope so. Thats what I need most, to be guided in the way I can use my powers. I want to learn how to be better, I want to be able to control them perfectly, to be able to call on them without worrying if they'll end up controlling me instead. I was hoping the people there could help me learn. It another reason I want to go there." Domingo stared out of the window for a second, watching the shadows of passers-by change shape.
"If I was called upon to use my powers in a specific line of work, then it'd give me the chance to hone them the way I want to. If I can help the world in any way I can, whilst using my powers to do it, I'll feel like everything I suffered so far will be worth it. A means to an end. I have the desire to be useful, and useful is what I will be."
"I see," Lenna nodded gently. That answer was more than enough for her right then. The fact he'd stated he was willing to use his powers to aid the greater good was a positive factor in his favor. And that he wanted to rule his powers rather than let them rule him? "I quite agree. It is best to be in control. I wish I could help you in bettering your skills... I just don't know much about being a mutant." A weak laugh and a smile. She tapped her temple with a finger, tilting her head. "That being said, I think I can find you others who can."
The cup of tea tilted back to quench her thirst. This interview had been a long one. As the tea cup clicked back down, she picked up her fork. While she'd been pecking at her food slowly, it seemed Domingo had already polished off his meal. A hearty appetite was a good thing. So was the meal. She smiled at him as she ate. "I'm glad I met you, Domingo. This has been a good conversation." One she likely wouldn't have had, had she been by herself. Company was also valued.
Domingo smiled and laughed a little at Lenna's quip. In a way, he wished that Lenna could help him too. He thought himself lucky for making a friend so soon after arriving in the city, and hoped the friendship would last. But the fact that she knew people who could help him struck a chord inside his brain. He knew that she hadn't heard of the Institute when he was describing what he knew of the place earlier. So the fact that she was in touch with and possibly had mutant contactc came as a bit of a surprise. It did explain her apparent human tolerance and acceptance of people with mutations. She'd actually helped him. It began to make sense to Domingo that she would be in contact with others of his kind. And the fact that she seemed to believe that these people might be willing to help him made Domingo wonder more who these people could be?
He'd researched the Institute as best he could back in London. A contact on the internet had mentioned the place and initially given Domingo the idea of coming to America. But the information was hugely biased against the Institute, despite the reports that the mutants who lived there actually wanted to help human and mutant kind relations. Domingo delved into the subject more and more, and read about the existence of other mutant factions, but he concentrated his research into the Institute, which eventually resulted in his pilgrimage to New York.
"I'm glad I met you too. It certainly has for me! I really hope that you can help me out, I'll be your friend forever if you can!" A broad smile came across Domingo's face like the sun re-appearing from behind blanketed clouds. This fateful meeting between himself and who was a complete stranger hours earlier had resulted in some real positivity for Domingo. He felt optimistic about his new life in the States. He'd always hoped it would turn out alright. Now, he believed that it could be.
After a brief bout of daydreaming Domingo's mind drifted back to the question in his mind. He thought that asking could be a little too curious, but he thought he'd give it a shot anyway. If Lenna didn't want to answer, it wouldn't matter, he had gained enough information for now anyway.
"So, do you know other mutants then? I'm presuming that the people you know who could maybe help me are mutants themselves? I mean, I don't mean to pry too much, just, well, I guess I'm just excited by the whole idea of you knowing someone who could help me out!"
>>"I'm glad I met you too. It certainly has for me! I really hope that you can help me out, I'll be your friend forever if you can!"
The smile returned to Domingo like the arc of a boomerang. "Oh, I'm certain." When in doubt, be decisive! If the people Lenna knew had the skills and knowledge to do the things they did, she was sure they'd be able to help Domingo out. So long as they were willing, of course. Some were more temperamental than most. And if they refused to aid him, she'd offer her help instead. She'd teach him how to better-use his powers, how to defend himself, and how to be strong. That was, of course, hanging on the ideal situation she was shooting for with Slate. To tell him all the sordid details now would be too much, too fast. It'd overwhelm.
So when he asked the 'who' and 'how' about her mutant acquaintances, Lenna was taken back. She paused a second, considering the best way to word this.
"I do," The brunette nodded a positive."And they should be able to help you. I have to let them know first, of course. They're busy with their own work. They, uh, do volunteer work overseas, and offer aid to nations in need." A pregnant pause worked its way into the conversation as Lenna momentarily considered what else the organization Slate was involved in did. Lenna kept up a smile, letting the words she'd already dropped speak for themselves. He need not know of things beyond the positive face built for the public. "They recently helped a village in Columbia, rebuilding a school. They're humanitarians." Lenna smiled. "They hope their efforts aid a greater peace."
Listening intently and with Lenna's complete attention, it began to descend on Domingo that perhaps it might take a little while before this 'work' might come up, if it did at all. Of course, he was vastly impatient and wanted to do something positive with his life as soon as possible, and especially with fellow mutants. But after listening to how Lenna had described the nature of the work they did, he realised that people of this status and background would be busy people, and getting a chance to meet them and offer his services to them could indeed be a long wait. But he didn't mind. Not at all.
Domingo was staring out of the window again, this time with a look of awe and wonder, imagining the feelings of overwhelming self-satisfaction that would come with acts of such direct philanthropy. "Wow, these people definitely sound like the kind of people I'd love to work for. They almost sound like saints! I mean, rebuilding a school in Colombia, that sounds like the kind of thing that'd stay with you forever. If I did something like that, my mother would be writing to the Pope himself to tell him! She'd be proud of me in a way I can't even describe." Domingo was smiling as he spoke of his mother. "My mama, she's very religious, to be honest our whole family are, they're all Roman Catholic's, but my mama she's been to Lourdes and Rome... Anyway, sorry, I'm going on a bit there!" He stopped for a second and adjusted his sitting position, looking toward Lenna. "I'd just love to give my mama reason to be glad I came here, y'know? She was a bit against me coming over to America."
'It does sound like it could be some kind of charity or something,' Domingo thought. He also thought that if it took time to sort out, he could go and check out the Institute and see for himself exactly what it was like. After all, it was the initial reason for his trans-atlantic journey.
"Well, if it takes a while, no worries Lenna. And as you say, there might not be any chance of it happening at all, so I won't get my hopes up just yet. But it sounds like a really unique opportunity to do some good in the world. Just hope that we keep in touch!" Domingo sincerely and absolutely hoped so.
Lenna smiled and let him 'go on a bit there'. All the positive traits Domingo attributed to Slate's work in Columbia did Lenna's job of talking up the Kabal better than Lenna could of hoped. More and more, Domingo spoke of his family life and his motivations for doing 'the work of saints'. Slate was a good man. That was certain. Domingo was, too. "I'm glad to see you approve. Your family sounds like a good one. I hope you make your mother proud, whatever you do."
"And don't worry. It shouldn't take too long. Maybe a week or two? Three weeks, tops? I'll call and give you status updates, if you want. You check out that school while you're here. What was it called again...?" Lenna fumbled with the internet function on her iPhone, pulling up a search engine. She entered 'school' + 'gifted', then eyed the results. From one person's standpoint, there was always the chance Domingo could find his calling at the mansion, and she'd be out of luck. That was true. From the way his eyes lit up when she described the work in Columbia, she suspected he'd be willing to hold out for her opportunity as well. Either way, Domingo would be happy. And that's what she wanted, wasn't it? To help him out while helping herself? The iPhone once again slid across the table towards Domingo. "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters... er, sorry. That's Xavier's Sister School. Misread. That's the address. Right there." Pen and paper slid over to join phone. One couldn't fault Lenna for being helpful.