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 Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
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.
It was news to her that she had helped him when he had been trying to figure things out. But that was good. “Glad I could help,” Amelia said.
When he told her about what they’d had to do to handle the deAging thing, Amelia felt a pang of regret. SUPER had been involved, and she, had not.
“Wow.” She said. “Wish I could have been there to help.”
She heard the weird tone he got when he mentioned SUPER, but did not push.
As for Serena... why had she asked? “Um. No reason. She was there when I got deaged I think, and I think it messed her up. Especially since it happened after we had a big long drawn out dramatic conversation. But that’s neither here nor there...”
The weight of that gaze was significant. So Amelia waited. And waited. For the reply. When she got it, she just nodded. Uncertain what else to say. At this point maybe nothing was the safest thing to say.
A meeting with the psychic division to test her and check her out. Read her mind. Fair. Deep, but fair. Amelia did not like the idea of psychos rooting around inside her mind, but then, she had nothing to hide. Denying SUPER the basic response would make it look as if she did.
After the psychics went at her and her story was confirmed, she would have to get a physical. Get all her actual data: that was alright.
A psychiatric appointment. Rebecca would be thrilled. Hadn’t she promised the woman she would look into that? Yay! Promises, kept.
The probation period hurt but it was par for the course.
Amelia met Sabine’s eyes.
“I have no questions.” She said, carefully. Not terse. Not dull. Hopefully, the Right tone. “All of those things are fair. What I would expect. Thank you.” Was she actually thanking Sabine? Yes. Yes, she was. “This whole thing has been on my mind for a long time. Getting it out, getting it sorted, and dealing with the consequences. Those are the important part.”
“I want to be someone SUPER can trust. Someone you can rely upon.”
She glanced at the papers.
“As for the x-men / super liaison idea... we can discuss that after my probationary period has ended, if you think it proper. Or not. I still think it’s a good idea, whoever you assign to the job.”
The poker face was real good. It didn’t give much away. No stray blink or twitch of the mouth clued Amelia in to what the woman thought of what she had said. Her fate was in Sabines hands, and all Amelia could do was wait.
Waiting was something she was used to, after all these years. And Sabine called her out on just that. Amelia opened her mouth to respond, then thought better of it and closed it. Because there was sure to be more coming. And there was. So much more.
All of the things Sabine called her out on were fair. At no point at Amelia expected Sabine to be like “oh, that’s cool. Anyways.” She had not expected Sabine to praise her on her lies and machinations, to give her all due credit for her deceit. Although fooling a government organization full of canny individuals with uncanny skills at espionage (or whatever) did seem to her a cause for some degree of, if not praise, then begrudging respect.
Sabine called her out on her half-truths and said it was a matter of national security. Said her methods were questionable, very very questionable, and called her a pseudo double agent. All hope was not lost, though. That glimmer of hope, that silver lining, was that Sabine called her potential agent Mellitus rather than former agent Mellitus. That made it sound as if she would start from the bottom, but— it was something.
Sabine finished, and Amelia was left to answer several questions. She decided to work her way back.
“I’m the Amelia from this world.” She agreed. “I have no blind spots. No gaps. At most, a bit of her personality, and some of her more useful memories, rubbed off on me.”
If she were missing things, how would she know? A journal? Hadn’t Sam suggested a journal? Fir the moment, her perception was all she had. And she perceived no noticeable holes in her memory. Unless the other woman’s memories filled them in, like in one of her favorite books. Suspecting anything like that, though, would seem wholly paranoid. So she told what she believed to be truth.
“The mind thing happened before the rift closed. Like, right before. Shortly after I escaped, which can be verified.” She didn’t explain her escape. Plenty of time for that later.
“You’re correct, I worried Super would react highly negatively in the event that it learned my true identity. They had me in a cage for over a year. Ran tests on me. They even bought me a nice straitjacket! So I think I was valuable to them. I thought they would want me back.” More quietly, Amelia added “And that’s to say nothing of the possibility some might have blamed me for what happened to my alternate self. Even though that was the psychic. I’ve worked law enforcement and I know how that works.”
Cops protect their interests, take care of their own. Get revenge for their buddies. Settle scores. There was little doubt in her mind that government agencies like SUPER were filled with people brought from similar stock.
“So, yes.” She concluded. “I have been been operating under false truths and half-pretenses for years. I have no way of knowing if SUPER would have been kind or not. I feared for myself and my loved ones. I couldn’t chance it. Guess I’ll find out now.”
Amelia looked Sabine dead in the eye, and did not shy away.
National security? “For the record, I never withheld anything that would have affected National security. I just kept it from you that I had the real Amelia’s trappings. Friends. Family. A girlfriend. That sort of thing.”
Amelia felt a wry smile tug at the corners of her mouth as she replied to him.
“You don’t always have to stab something hard,” she said, voice slipping into a singsong cadence. “In fact, sometimes that’s not right to do.”
Amelia left the rest of the tenacious D lyrics left unsaid. Sam did not need to hear about saying please. Or giving a squeeze. Or saying hey, I’m gonna... heh. She left that train of thought at the station. Why had she even gone in that direction? She hadn’t even heard that song in ages. Maybe it had been something to do with the name? Or, no. Probably just phrasing. His, and hers. Because that’s ^*^*ing teamwork.
Okay. She was done with the Tenacious D. Side note: she needed to track down Serena at some point.
Anyways. He was stabbing her hoodie, gently. It didn’t get punctured. Cool.
So she would have to experiment on his jacket.
“Guess I’ll have to get used to that. If you want to have a cool jacket.” She agreed.
It would be good to learn limits. That wasn’t really something that would happen overnight. She would have to keep the jacket, to experiment on it. Test all her clothes. And also, see if she couldn’t enchant any more articles of clothing. A full wardrobe of bulletproof clothes? Yes, please!
“Yeah. I’ll have to keep this while I enchant it again.” She held up the jacket and wiggled it at him. “Hope that’s okay. If I can make more stuff maybe I’ll even make myself an entire outfit out of this junk. Anyways— I’ll have to figure that out later.”
She set the jacket down and picked up some pizza. Sat on the bed.
“Thanks for coming here, and, what? Clueing me in to how I’d grown the hell up?” She shrugged one shoulder and bit into the slice.
Her mental gears changed. “So. Obviously I’ve got blank spots about the mansion. Anything major I miss? Did they ever catch the witch who did this? And how is Serena?”
((OOC I don’t know if this is before or after they caught the lady who deaged everyone. What’s it look like on CS’s timeline for that? As for Serena.., who knows what that Brit is up to?))
Amelia regarded Eve and the straitjacket. “I think it’s probably dead. I figured that my hoodie required recharges somehow. And I doubt I’ve charged this. Plus, I think I am limited to one type of thingy at a time. Which I have to fix. Obviously.”
She smiled at Eve. “A girl has to accessorize.”
She didn’t even picture Eve stabbing her. Or stabbing her with a starched version of the straitjacket which was where her overly literal mind had temporarily gone.
They would test the hoodie. They would test to see if she could figure out or replicate the weave. Small tests, scientific. Fixing the weave would probably take time, all things do that matter. This would likely not be the work of an afternoon. What was it they said about Rome?
Amelia mumbled something about her mind suddenly being scattered like she’d lost it over the course of a month or two of neglect. And needing to gather her thoughts to figure out what they wanted to do with this.
She let him finish, then chimed in with a “Heh. Maybe.”
She took a bite, then added “inspiration to try something new huh? think I had that happen to me at least once before.” She smirked. And thought of Mirror. Maya mirror, specifically. The last time a person had inspired her to try something new.
Thinking of what he’d said, Amelia pondered just how far back the deAging had taken her. Far back enough to be before the whole growth, but still enough to understand the principles? She honestly did not know.
What she did know was that there was a name scribbled in the corner of one page. Adelyn? For what THAT meant, she really didn’t want to know.
Amelia idly tore that part of the page off and crumpled it into a ball, which she tried to throw into a waste paper backet near Sam. She missed and bopped him in the forehead with the paper ball, instead.
“Bin that,” she commented mildly.
She set what she was holding down on the desk top and went over to her closet. There, she found the green Carhart hoodie. She turned and held it up between her hands.
“Maybe I should ask you to stab this to see if it still repels stabs. Gently. I like this thing.”
As for his... “I’ll have to experiment on yours to make sure I can make it work and last longer. Maybe it’s some weird thing like it needing to recharge in my presence. Something I’ve never noticed because I always recharge it weekly.”
The hoodie would still be stab proof, if he tried. Other Amelia had figured that part out at least. Old Amelia knew this, not.
“Well.” She bowed over her coffee, and took a calming sip. Then, she barreled forward. “This is where that trust starts, because I am extending a lot of it towards you. Please excuse the long story... and um. Please, don’t shoot the messenger?”
Amelia looked Sabine in the eyes for a moment. Or tried to. It was up to Sabine if direct eye contact had truly been met. There was no trace of evasion in Amelia’s direct look. She was telling her stuff as it was, no matter how badly it made her look.
“I worked alongside the X-men for several years. Just like I’ve worked alongside SUPER for the past couple of years.” Note the crucial numbering there. Couple. 2, 3, maybe 4. Not longer, nope. “Loyally,” she went on. “Which, I guess, is a key point here. The loyalty. Seeing as I am not the Amelia Mellitus who came from your side of the rift.”
She grimaced, but moved on. Hopefully, the woman would not shoot. “Nothing for it but to yank the bandaid off. I spoke of personal experience in dealing with SUPER relations because your SUPER agent Mellitus came through the rift, abducted me, and assumed my identity. I escaped from SUPER labs on the other side, and made it back here to my side of the street. I tracked her down, confronted her about our differences... in the hope we could resolve them like adults...” Haha.
“During the clash a third party, a psychic, came and did something... and next thing I knew, I woke up and looked down and other Me was unconscious. And seemingly brain dead. So. I took her to SUPER headquarters location, this side of the rift. Which I somehow suddenly knew. Damn psychic. And— what? Well. I guess I brought her home. And it just sort of happened but I guess it was only natural that I assumed her identity right back. And like I said,” she clutched coffee in both hands. Still warm. Her cheeks matched the heat. “I’ve been loyally serving SUPER’s goals, ever since. I think SUPER is needed. I think it serves a purpose. Some mutants can be quite dangerous.” Me, for instance! She thought.
“I think it is important to note that I did follow SUPERs MO while joining up. ‘Collect, assimilate, analyze, and report information’, right? Well. I did do that. Mostly, I wanted to learn. To understand what kind of organization would willingly abduct and experiment on mutants, for the greater good. And if I’m being direct, that’s only due to personal experience. I think it’s really good SUPER has dialed back that side of operations.” She finished, calmly. Important to note the dry calm of her tone. Otherwise, one might have thought her ‘heated.’
Less than a week. But no specifics. Not helpful. They would have to test it to really get the timing down if she were planning to loan out more of these. There had to be limits and weaknesses. All great powers have them.
Amelia looked towards the man as he went into a bout of coughing. Which turned into laughing. Hm?
Was something funny about asbestos? Other than the fact old comic book characters used it as the solution for literally every fire based hero. Asbestos panties, asbestos rope, asbestos blanket. Asbestos. A fine part of any American breakfast.
He answered and she nodded. “I really doubt she’d do that...” Amelia trailed off.
She gnawed on pizza while she read. Her mind only half heard what he had said. She was Thinking. Even if she based it off the thing... She didnt think she broke reality to literally make something into something else. Just... properties... but this... these properties she was going for.. her eyes scanned the page.
She stopped when she got to good stuff.
“Yeah. No.” She said absently. “She didn’t base it off asbestos. She got distracted by polytetrafluoroethylene. That’s... smart.” She looked up at him. “PTFE. The stuff TEFLON is made of. For waterproofing and electrical resistance and heat... though I already have that. Mines just Kevlar and ceramic plating for defense. Does similar resistances... so. No cancer.” She finished lamely. “If she even managed it. Did she improve my formula, or did she just figure out how to make more stuff...”
If her hoodie was around. Amelia got up and starting rooting around in her closet.
She let out a little breath, almost a sigh, and pushed her hair out of her eyes. Then, she set her coffee down on the desk in front of her.
“There are a few things I wanted to speak with you about. The first is an explanation for my recent absence. For the last month or so, I was de-aged. I got jumped by the lady outside of Xavier’s sister school.” Amelia said carefully.
The exact course of events that had lead to the situation were Hairy and Confusing. First off, she had gone after a SUPER mission that had ended poorly. Secondly, she had confessed to Rebecca about her SUPER affiliation and everything that came with that. Third, she had realized two things simultaneously. 1: she wanted out of SUPER and the secrets she had to keep, and 2: she wanted in deeper than she had ever gone before. Because she had a plan.
The follow up attack had happened after that first meeting with Becca, but the actual deAging event had occurred the day after. The day after she had decided to come clean with SUPER and be an adult about everything, she had, um, not been. But only because she had gone to stake out the mansion for the lady, and ran into her ex-girlfriend, instead.
She couldn’t well TELL Sabine all the gritty details about relationship details, and secrets and avoidances done in order to protect. Such things sounded dramatic, and soap opera-grade convoluted. Amelia had a feeling the last thing Sabine wanted was to hear about some soap opera of a love life. Like sands in the hour glass, these are the days of our awkward lesbians...
The lady had deaged her just after she’d reconciled with her Ex, and... then that had been even more awkward and she hadn’t even realized how awkward until she’d grown up again... she thought. And all of this really had nothing to do with why she’d contacted Sabine Sang, so why was she thinking about it again? Oh right. Because the talk with Becca and the talk with Serena had brought up two wildly conflicting, yet complementary, ideas. And she wanted to both talk about those ideas and simultaneously shoot herself in the foot with a full confession. Because why do one stupid thing when you can do two at the very same time?
“Prior to that event, I had spoken with Rebecca Grey about maybe becoming a SUPER / X-Men liaison. Which would be something to discuss with SUPER, obviously. But something needs doing to smooth interactions with SUPER and the X-men. I have a history with them, and... personal experience regarding the difficulties they have experienced with us in the past.”
Her face was calm as she reached forward and picked up her coffee, took a sip. But was she calm? No. It was acting, of course! She was $@&$ing not!
Her mind focused on the one comment that mattered to her. He’d gotten shot once or twice. A as Nd then a few more times, after thought. Amelia blinked.
Active lifestyle? “Yeah. Just a bit.” She said.
So, yes. If it wore down based on damage taken, it was entirely probable it has worn off early. Either due to him not being entirely truthful about how much he’d been shot (hello, mob hit?), or else... this was an egotistical thought, but—
“Is it me?” She thought out loud. She took a big bite of pizza, and chewed it over while she searched her drawers. After ten seconds, she hauled out a notebook. There were a couple of them.
She opened one and looked at Sam. “So. How long ago did you say i enchanted this for you? One day? Two?” Maybe he would need to be her guinea pig. If there were limits beyond what she knew about herself, she would need to learn.
Her slice of pizza was in one hand, and her notebook was pressed open on the desk. Her eyes scanned for something of relevance.
“I wrote a lot of stuff about... asbestos. Please don’t tell me I based something off a known carcinogen... Teflon, too. Hm. Weird.”
Here was hoping Sam hadn’t run around in an asbestos jacket.
On her to-do list, she had marked down several things. Of these things, many had been given the tick. The tick that says ‘done it!’ The tick that says ‘bring on the next one!’ The order and importance may have been a bit random, sorry! There had been a metric ton to think about!
She had contacted Serena. Not first, Mind you. But within the first several boxes on the list. It was a cowardly way, of course. Because despite being brave enough to delve into sewers deep, and fight zombies and vampires, Amelia still felt awkward in awkward situations. She had left a text.
The choice of a text message could have been chalked up to sheer busyness, or twisted around to simplicity and ease. It really boiled down to one thing. She had not felt she could trust herself to leave a voice mail. Not when things were so complicated, and not when she had been as emotional as she had been the day she had left the text. So, text it had been!
The text had said something like “Hey Serena, I am acting my age again! Call me some time. Super busy sorting my life out. Get back to you ASAP!”
Amelia had not wanted to leave Serena in the dark again. After the last time she had vanished, she had done just that! It had been a terrible, terrible, TERRIBLE thing! One does not just ghost one’s girlfriend!
Side bar. Amelia did not know that while she had been deaged, she had gained a girlfriend. And that now, she was doing just that. Ghosting. Again. To her, the adventures of her temporary youth felt like they were a decade past. So, it had not been a personal choice. Not on purpose. Just the unfortunate side effect of the situation. And she had a lot of those.
One of her to-do list things had been to check on her job. Her cop job. Turns out, if you vanish for a month or two and just call in sick the first time, they fire you! Who knew? So. That had been a wash. Short of hiring her brother, the lawyer, to fight for her, she was not certain she could rectify the situation. And him adjudicating on her behalf was all 52 flavors of unethical. As for her other job... she had yet to check!
She had sorted out her apartment situation. Turned out, she’d been smart enough to have routine bank deposits and had built up a decent savings to fill the void. And maybe her brother had helped?
Mansion belongings had either been donated to good Will, or else they had migrated to her apartment. Amelia had no use for teenager clothes, but she kept the note books and stuff.
There were other things, myriad things, but after the first few hours of trouble shooting the day after she had grown up, Amelia had realized she was avoiding SUPER.
Super.
The organization she had infiltrated, with intent to destroy. The organization she had decided was actually pretty okey dokey. That she had worked through, and with. The one that served a purpose. SUPER, the organization she had made a decision about just minutes prior to being deaged. Hence, it had been fresh in her mind.
Now was the time. Now was the time to act on decisions. To clean house, and throw out some things that were of no use to anyone any more. Things like lies.
Amelia had contacted Sabine at SUPER and let her know she was back. And could they talk?
Why Sabine? They’d fought vampire zombies together and Amelia had found her capable. Also, was there rank involved? Probably. Suffice it to say, it just made sense.
They met in an office. She had made an appointment. Niceties were exchanged. Amelia awaited the question of what things they needed to speak of with bated breath. Sipping her coffee. Someone had been nice enough to supply a cup.
So Noel agreed, spice was life. Yes. She nodded in approval of the very appropriate response.
Noel thought she would avoid someone like that, someone who knew a past version better than the present. Again, Lenna nodded. They were agreeing a lot. Seemed like they had the types of personalities that did not clash. Complementary, maybe?
She looked to Sam. Yes, he would feel that way would he not? Keep things “chill.” A small smirk touched her lips. Cool steel, chill. Right. She had forgotten.
Amelia chimed in from the sidelines. “I so totally do not care what future me did. Avoid talk of that past at all costs.” If the girl had still had her drink, Lenna suspected it would have clinked with another in a toast to avoidance.
”Cheers to that,” she agreed, with a sober nod.
Sam mentioned spicing the party up. As if on cue, across the party some people cheered and threw things up in the air like it was college graduation ceremony, with caps. Upon closer examination...
”Are those bikini tops being cast aside?” Lenna inquired.
Amelia laughed, but didn’t glance that way for confirmation. “Hey look Sam, spice!”
Under her breath Lenna mumbled something like I am not doing that. Amelia chuckled. Lenna noted that Amelia did not do any spicing up, herself. For all the amusement she derived from the act.
The danger room did nothing for a few seconds, and then it brought up a hologram that covered the entirety of their fields of vision.
The words Most Recent appeared hovering in the air in front of them, in Comic Sans font. They vanished a moment later, replaced by the scene. A ghostly see-through image of Amelia in the danger room. A younger Amelia. Fighting two clothing store mannequins. Though to this Amelia, it was an older Amelia. A year or so her senior.
One mannequin was dressed in slacks and a white button up shirt. It wore a tie that streamed behind them as it ran. Faceless, fearsome, pale. It threw a straight jab at the girl. In a blur of motion, she ducked, bobbed, and deflected the move with her hands. Then, she thrust both hands out in a shoving gesture. A very large blue hand appeared in the air between them. It sent the mannequin staggering back with an open palm thrust.
The second mannequin rushed in to try and kick her. It wore a black miniskirt and blue tank top with the words “live free. Danger room style” written on the chest in sans serif. The hand turned as she spun to face the mannequin. She brought her own hand back in the motion for a slap. The blue hand followed suit. The mannequin in the miniskirt was sent spinning from the impact of the big blue hand.
Amelia ghost ran.
The word Continue? spun in place in front of them as the visual paused.
The real Amelia frowned. “Interesting, but no.” She said. The danger room returned to its default settings. Turning to mirror, she added “That tells me I can do it. The question now is how.”
How now, brown cow?
She hadn’t given Evelyn away. That was good. But how did one practice something like this? So far, all she had managed with her power was to manifest the invisible push and pull of it. The one that only affected clothes.
“With Adelynn, it was an accident. I snapped and it sort of happened without my concentration, mimicking me. But every time I try that now, it’s like there’s something there, blocking me.”
Did she even want to mess with this, now? Maybe the block was there for a reason? Like some invisible hand, holding something from her. Protecting her? Keeping it for... itself?
Her younger self had, then. And he didn’t know how many she made, or any of that. Great.
So she could have torn apart her best thing to make Sam something else. Something that apparently did not work.
She watched as he removed the jacket and gave it to her. He was injured. The feat probably hurt. Still, he did it.
Amelia sighed and repressed the urge to snag a slice of pizza to eat while she examined the coat.
“Well, younger me seems hasty and fallible. Let’s hope she took good advice when she heard it! Knowing me, though...” Amelia trailed off and let Sam finish the thought himself.
Now she would have to hunt for a note book. Hunt hunt hunt. Joy.
Amelia set the jacket down, and examined it. There was something, some way she sensed weaves on her objects. Some little trick she had never defined. It was partly related to how she could sense through touch the things her controlled objects of clothing were touching even if she wasn’t touching them, herself. Or it might have been. There really wasn’t a way to define it. It was not as if she could “see” the weaves, but also. She could see the weaves. Whatever. The point was, she could see faint remnants of the weaves now.
“Huh. Lesse.” She grabbed the nearest pointy thing from her bedside table. It was a Bobby pin. Amelia jammed it into the jacket with violence and no warning. The pin bent, and broke. The jacket was fine. Maybe mildly dimpled from where the pin had struck. But that would bounce back. Leather was resilient if maintained.
“Weeeeird. What it seems like to me, is that most of the weaves are still there.” She rambled. “But they’ve aged, as if I had not maintained them for a very long time. Usually it’s a monthly thing. And there are two weaves on each item, but it seems like the bullet resistance wore off faster than the knife resistance... I can’t really explain that. Maybe wear and tear broke down the wards of one faster than the other? Tell me, do you get shot often? Take it for a danger room test drive perhaps? Or how long ago did I give you this crap?”
She snagged a slice of pizza and started rooting in drawers as she ate. The jacket, she sat down on the bed.
Amelia was somehow impressed with juniper for her squirrelly deeds. She giggled, too!
“Have to remember that. The squirreling. Squirreling.” She repeated the word, with some slurring and odd emphasis, like some sort of Russian spy lady.
Wasn’t there a drink called a White Russian? They should have one! Her mind bounced around like a ball in a pinball machine. Before she smacked it with the requirement to do actual thinking and made the machine Tilt.
Squirrelly deeds, done dirt cheap. The classic rock song rattled along in the back of her pinball mind.
Cabs. Apps. Cabbapps. Cabbages. Wait, they did have apps? Did she need to poke around in her cell phone for such a thing?
Juniper scrolled. Amelia ate and contemplated.
Good drunk food. “Good drunk food for moose and sqvuirrel.” She agreed. Pointed to juniper when she said squirrel. Looked like juni has earned a nickname. At least until her drunken ass forgot.
More fries. More grease. More carbs. “Vitamin G.” She commented. “Grease.”
Useful for hangovers, too. Which she’d certainly learn soon enough. Woe be to her if she did not.
Juniper the squirrel talked about vampires rayovacula, and Amelia chimed in “I fought zombies one time. With a shotgun. How I discovered I had powers. Knocked my girlfriend out of the way of a moooving car.” She faked a hand shoving gesture. With both hands.
It was good juniper had not shared the countess Duracell image, or else playboy energizer bunnies would have bounced around merrily in Amelia’s head. And nobody wanted that.
“No vampires, though. But wasn’t there a living building and a guy in the sewers...?” The memory was there and gone, like a ghost. A ghost of memories from beyond her current age and timeline, that wanted to haunt the here the now from the future to the past. The days of futures, past. Heh!
She missed the shot on the first grab and had to try for it again before she could drink it down. More fries fries fries, yeah yeah.
“Countess Duracell is badass.” She chuckled. “Maybe Adelynn needs a nickname... and a cape.” Heh. Whoops. She found the mental image on her own. She quickly buried it with images of the App Store and fab apps on her phone. Fab apps. Cab apps.